Wait for Me
by McQ
Summary: After X3. A lesser known member of the Brotherhood searches for Toad, who has been missing since the Brotherhood's failure with the machine. She appeals to her leader, the once great, now near powerless, Magneto. In her tireless search, she has discovered a government funded mutant experimentation project and the unwitting complicity of the X-Men. Sequel: VICIOUS CIRCLES.
1. Chapter 1: Magneto

Author's Note: I do not have any rights to X-Men, the comics, or the movies. I base my stories solely on the movies, as I know little about the comics. If you expect the information contained in this story to reflect the comic books, you will be disappointed.

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* * *

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Wait for Me

**Chapter 1: Magneto**

_Would you wait for me,_

_if you knew I was never coming home?_

_Would you wait? Cast me off to Fate?_

_Or leave me all alone?_

The world is a cold and strange place. When you are alone. Is there nothing left for me? Where have they all gone?

Eric Magnus Lensherr was once a great man. He sat in a park, fearing those around him. Every move they made, every sound, every breath frightened him. He was weak now, weaker than he had ever been, weak— like the old man he was.

And now, in all ways, he seemed as nothing. And why was he here? What was this park he had chosen to sit in for hours? These chess pieces he studied, desperately struggling to move them with what little power he retained? It happened sometimes, the power came surging through him and he was who he was again!

Then it disappeared. And he was what he had never been before—human. Some days he would stare at the river from the bridges he was once capable of moving with a thought. Throw yourself in, you are no more! What stopped him was a sense—a smell, almost, of the metal all around him, the metal that was somehow a part of him, the metal he could still feel! It could not be over! No! Not now. Like this.

Charles. Can you hear me Charles?

"Mystique…" he whispered out loud. A great, comprehensive sadness overcame him. He was abandoned, because he had abandoned others. She would not come back to him…would she? Mystique…the truest companion he had ever known.

And the others? Where were they? The ones that had survived, who had cheered at the very words he spoke! Where were they! Where were his followers, his army?

"Sir?" He was ripped from his despair by a light voice, quieter than any he would have expected.

He did not look up. "Can I help you?"

The source of the voice reached out and grabbed his hand. He looked up full of fear. And the girl that stared at him burst into tears at the sight of it! At the sight of his fear!

"Eden! Eden, my girl!" he cried.

She fell at his feet, still holding his hand. So fragile, so pale. How she had made it here, he could not guess! "Sir! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He clutched her hand and ran his fingers through her hair. "Sorry? What for, my dear? What for?"

Eden raised her eyes, full and wet and shining. "I heard what was done to you! What those bastards—what those animals…" She burst forth anew. "I came to find you! I knew you lived! I looked for you everywhere, everywhere. And I finally…I'm so glad!" She brought his hand to her lips with a strength he did not believe her capable of and she kissed it over and over again, her tears dripping down over his knuckles. He could feel the outer edge of her sharp white fangs barely brushing the hairs on his hand.

He could also see the strain in her, how weary she was, how ill. He could tell whatever she had gone through to find him had taken every ounce of her remaining strength.

Eric took back his hand and held her shoulders. "Eden, you've found me. Now you must rest. Come with me."

She did not resist. They walked together, arm in arm. Anyone might think they were grandfather and grandchild. It may have been that way, in another life. But not his life. No. Not the life of Eric Magnus Lensherr, who had once been a great man.

_

* * *

If I were in my grave _

_and there was nothing left to save_

_and if I all I ever gave_

_you was grief, _

_Would you feel relief?_

* * *

It seemed she slept peacefully. Wrapped in a blanket, on the tawdry couch. This apartment belonged to Eric, used as a temporary base of operations when needed. A place to sleep, a place to hide or eat. A momentary refuge. Now, it was his home. 

He remembered odd things now, actions and events that had been clouded over for so long by more immediate issues. Eric cooked now, like his mother had, remembering recipes from half a century ago. He made things…bought clothes and food. He read books, many books. He cleaned his apartment. He dusted. He vacuumed. He watched TV. The reputation of the man who had once been Magneto did not touch the quiet, German-American tenant, Eric Lens. He was a simple neighbor who kept to himself, and was occasionally greeted by Mrs. Fitzgerald in the elevator who never knew the time.

Eden's eyes were open, but asleep, out of focus, as in death, an eerie happenstance. Her fangs poked gently from beneath her upper lip and her lovely green-sheen was coming back. Her skin glistened slightly, a good and healthy sign. She was repairing herself, slowly.

A knock at the door brought her eyes into a direct and frightened focus. She sat bold upright and scaled the wall behind her until she was on the ceiling. Eric rose to answer his seldom visited door.

"Sorry to bother you," said the man, "is this 59 A or 59 B? Both doors say 59…"

"This is 59 A," said Eric. The man nodded. "Thanks, sorry. I got a package for the guy next door."

"Very well," said Eric. "Good night." He closed the door and looked up. "Did he scare you?"

She descended slowly, with slithering grace. "A bit. Sorry."

He watched her settle back down on the couch. "How are you feeling?"

She breathed in. "Fine, I'm ok. I'm just so glad I found you."

Eric sat down beside her. "So am I." She smiled up at him. "Are you hungry? I've made tea and a small supper."

Her smile widened with something like amusement. "That's my job!" she laughed. It was good to hear her laugh. "I am hungry, though. Famished!"

"You'd be surprised, what you have time to do when you can't do anything else," he replied, unable to disguise the bitterness in his voice.

Eden slumped into the couch. "I wish it had been me, and not you."

"Mystique felt the same way," Eric blurted out and then he caught himself. "And I—"

Eden nodded. "I know."

"You—and you still came back to me?"

Again, she nodded. So simple in her innocence, Eden saw the world in black and white, not unlike another mutant he had known, Mortimer, the Toad. He looked away. "You couldn't have survived the transformation. It would have weakened you to death…"

Eden got off the couch, shakily, and went into the kitchen. She searched and found plates, utensils and cups and laid them out on the table. "Shall we eat?"

* * *

After dinner was done and Eden had seen to the dishes, they sat together and drank tea, a custom he had not forgotten, but one that he had neglected. Sitting with her in a calm stillness, the lust for war and justice disappeared. It always did during these moments. 

"Sir," she said suddenly, "I've been watching the news, whenever I can. I've been reading papers, on the subways and such, what people leave behind. And," she paused and swallowed, "it…it's wearing off. That serum, that medicine that took away your powers. It doesn't work."

"I've been watching the same news," he concurred. "I was injected with four vials of that serum."

She looked dismayed. "You're powers haven't come back?"

He looked at the bracelet she was wearing, the one she always wore. It moved up her wrist and nearly off her hand before he lost control. He looked pointedly at her.

Eden clutched the bracelet, surely the only gift she had ever received in her life. She looked up at him. "Maybe it'll just take longer for you. It isn't gone completely."

"I think you're right, but I don't know if it will ever be the same as it was. If I will ever be the same…"

She still held onto the bracelet, moving it around in her hand, thinking.

"You're still looking for him, aren't you?"

Eden stilled, stopped breathing. "No," she whispered. She looked up at him with the most intense gaze. "I found him."

_

* * *

Would you wait for me? _

_Would you hold me in your heart?_

_Or would I have to start_

_All over again?_

**

* * *

**

Four years ago…

"When can we try it out?" he asked.

Toad shrugged. "Couple o' days, fix a few things."

A man of few words, Toad was. Magneto liked that about him. He was willing, able, loyal, and as close to silent as one could get without being totally mute. "Well done, Toad," he said to the man.

A glint of a smile played on Toad's thin lips, and he nodded his head with a quiet "Right."

Mystique approached him. Toad watched her, allowing his eyes to wander obviously. She scoffed at him and turned to Magneto. "Senator Kelly will be at the rally, I've just confirmed it. He'll be using his helicopter for transport. I think we can take the chopper and fix it so that Toad will pilot it."

"Yeah, I cin do that," Toad assented.

Mystique nodded. "We can bring him here. You can test the machine on him."

Magneto took in a deep, satisfied breath. "Hmm…how ironic that will be, my dear. You're sure you can manage it?"

"Positive."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Good. Good. I'm looking more and more forward to this."

Mystique smiled at him and he followed her into the anteroom to finalize the plans. Toad would be told eventually exactly what he had to do and he would do it. He turned back to the machine. He put on his goggles and picked up the spray paint.

"Will it work?"

He turned and looked at Eden. She looked huge in these glasses. He removed them. Now she was a short blur. Was there no middle ground? "Yeah, it'll work."

She stepped up closer to it and looked up, amazed at the sheer size of it. "Wow…you've done such a good job."

"Well, maybe I 'ave and maybe I 'aven't. So long as he don't drop dead after using it, I fink it'll be alright."

"Don't say that, Toad. That's a terrible thing to say."

Toad shrugged. "Well, if Sabretooth comes back with the girl, we won't hafta worry about that, will we?" He put on his goggles and started painting again. "Do us a favor, eh? Go up there and get another can o' paint."

"Why is it up there?"

"Cos that's where I put it!" he snapped. "Other side's not wet," he said more quietly.

She nodded and moved to other side. He could hear her sliding up it, into the top portion of the machine. Mystique came out of the anteroom and disappeared in a hallway. As she exited, Sabretooth entered. He was alone.

Toad laughed to himself. Still spraying the machine, he stopped and turned. "Weren't you supposed to bring someone back with you?" Sabretooth growled, but said nothing. Toad turned with a satisfied grin and finished off the spray can.

"Did you get lost up there?" he called.

"No," Eden called back. "I was just looking at it. In coming!"

He caught the can deftly. "Bad throw," he shouted. "You could've have hit me on the head, daft bitch."

She appeared on the ground again. "Your welcome," she muttered.

He took the goggles off to adjust the nozzle and the can. "It looks like we have somefing to worry about after all."

"You shouldn't have said that to Sabretooth—"

As she was saying that, Magneto and Sabretooth entered the central chamber from the anteroom. Toad turned and watched them. Sabretooth growled menacingly as he passed. "I can say whatever I want to Sabretooth."

Eden did not argue. Toad touched up some more sections of the machine. After about ten minutes, he stopped. "Come and see if I've missed anything."

She went over and stood next to him. She stared at the machine. "There," she pointed. "And a little over there," she gestured again.

He followed her finger and sprayed the areas she singled out. She pointed out a few more and he was finished.

"Looks good," she said.

"Not finished yet. A few technical things. Want to hand me tools?"

She faced him and smiled. Her fangs were so white and so beautiful. Her frail flexible body was so perfect. "Sure," she said.


	2. Chapter 2: Toad

**

* * *

Chapter 2: Toad**

_Keep me together_

_Let me go, no! never_

_If you ever waver_

_I'll die all alone._

Eden held his hand in hers, balanced it gently. The burns were raw. The skin was dead and brown. The tips of his fingers were sizzling. His palms were scorched. She applied the disinfectant gingerly and he barely winced.

In the silence, only their breathing was audible. Magneto watched her apply the balm, bandage his burnt hands. She said nothing, asked nothing. When she was done, he took her hand in his, the white bandages enveloping it.

"How is it that when I'm here with you, what ever else happens doesn't seem to matter?"

She lifted her eyes to his and smiled. "I don't know," she whispered.

He stared at her for some time, observing her simplicity and gentleness and he knew not what else. Her eyes were like a lagoon, deep and green and endless. Hypnotic, and soothing. He wondered briefly if that were a part of her powers. He blinked and let her go.

"It works." He answered her question so she wouldn't have to ask it. "But I cannot use it, without it killing me. We need the girl."

"What can I do?" Eden asked.

He shook his head. "There's nothing for you to do. Mystique is going to the school, to try to get her to leave its confines. We can't get to her while she's in there."

She frowned. "With Cerebro, you'll have a hard time getting her anywhere."

"The rest of us will take care of that."

She was quiet for a moment. A shadow clouded her beautiful eyes. "I wish I could be there, to help."

Magneto thought for a moment and realized something that should have been obvious to him. "I do have something for you to do, actually. Toad will help you. It's in regard to your very special abilities."

Eden smiled, glad to be useful. Her services had not been needed in some time and she was probably afraid of becoming useless and unneeded. "What do you need?" she asked eagerly.

_

* * *

Hold on to me dearly_

_Never let me fall_

_Keep me, all_

_Of me, body and soul…_

* * *

"Here. Bite into this."

Toad handed her a sterile sponge. Magneto stepped forward. "Just enough to knock her out, fast."

She nodded. "This will make her unconscious in a moment. She'll have just enough time to feel the needle going in and that's it."

Magneto nodded, approving. "Good. Good."

Toad watched her bite into it. The poison in her teeth seeped through and the white sponge filled with a slightly greenish liquid. After a few seconds in the open air, it turned a blood red. Toad took the sponge and squeezed the poison into a syringe.

It was while he was sealing it that he noticed something. Eden, staring at him, watching his every move. He locked eyes with her and she did not turn away. She maintained contact, longer than he could. He looked again and his breath quickened, it seemed all sound and sight disappeared.

Magneto said something to Eden and she smiled, never looking away until she turned her back and left the room. He finished what he was doing and handed it to Magneto.

"When we get word from Mystique, you'll fly the helicopter to the rendezvous point."

He barely heard him. "Yeah. Right. Got it."

Toad left the room, not sure what he had agreed to. He followed Eden's scent to the pools outside.

Her clothes were by the water, and almost without thinking, he picked them up and placed them farther from the water's edge. He crouched down at the edge of the pool and watched, waiting. The water shifted and moved. She was swimming under there. In that freezing water.

She surfaced and stared at him. She said nothing. All he could do was look at her, all he could think of was what it would be like to be there with her, in the water, naked, with her. He took off his shoes and socks and his shirt and his undershirt and his pants and his boxers. He dove into the water. She disappeared in its depths.

He searched for her. His eyes saw more clearly in water than they ever could on land. But this water was dark and she was lithe and fast, like he was. And she was small. And she blended in. A true snake.

He searched for a while and surfaced again. It was dark outside now, the stars were laughing at him. How had he lost her?

There she was, back on the land. A cloth wrapped around her, no modesty in it, she was not afraid, she was cold. And for as cold blooded as he could be, he was warmer now than he had ever been in his life! He would warm her! Fixing his eyes on her, not letting her get away a second time, he leapt out of the water and landed next to her. He put one hand on her leg and the other behind her head and kissed her hard, passionately, forcefully, desperate for the taste of her.

She touched him. She held him. She pulled his hair. He made love to her everywhere, kissed her all over her body and she did the same. Her long, forked tongue drove him mad! It was frenzied! It was crazy! Nothing else in the entire world mattered but right here, right now!

And when he couldn't stand it anymore, when he thought he would die with the pleasure of it, he put himself between her legs. She leaned back, breathing faster than was probably good for her. Seeing her like that, he made himself stop. She saw this, and looked questioningly at him.

"Tell me," he gasped, "if I hurt you."

"I will," she replied.

And everything that followed was awesome, incredible, terrifying, wonderful and altogether the most exciting sex Toad had ever had.

_

* * *

Will you wait for me_

_Even if I die?_

_Will you wait for me_

_Hold your tears! Don't cry…_

* * *

The night passed and neither of them slept and neither of them spoke. Not a word passed between them. He could not think of a single thing to say.

What was she? Who was she? And who was he that she should give herself to him? She was …

"Good," he blurted out.

And she laughed. "What?"

He leaned over her, looking into her eyes. "You're good."

It seemed she blushed, her greenish skin reddening. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Yeah, well," he huffed, lying back down on the ground beside her. "I don't get too much practice."

She laughed again, more quietly this time. Then she sat up, and looked down at him. There was no expression in her eyes, it just seemed as though she were studying him, dispassionately. Then she smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, gentle, gentle…so hypnotic. "Sleep," she said.

"I can't sleep…" he murmured.

"You need your energy for tomorrow," she responded.

He closed his eyes and her fingers moved across his head like a breeze, she was barely touching him. It was all he could feel…her fingers in his hair… "Yeah…tomorrow…" he whispered. "I've got to fly the helicopter. I can't sleep…"

"Do you trust me, Toad?"

Toad opened his eyes in a flash. "What?" He was taken aback by her question. "Yeah, I…guess."

Eden leaned down and kissed his neck. "Then sleep…" she said. He felt her teeth go in, painlessly. Sleep came over him instantly. It was the first night in a lifetime of nights that he slept in total, unaltered, dreamless, sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Sabretooth

Chapter 3: Sabretooth

Toad got up off the floor and stretched. He looked into the cavernous ceiling and felt the cool outside air surround him. A perfect day to kill. The weather was just right for it. Not too hot, not too cold.

He turned sideways to look at Eden, sleeping peacefully, her eyes still open. He got down on his stomach and looked into her eyes. She could not see him. It was crazy…her eyes like that.

He found his pants and his shirt by the water's edge, and put them on. He dug his hands into the pockets. It was here…he knew it was here. These were the pants he was wearing the day they took the helicopter. He found it. Toad examined the bracelet on all sides. It looked gold. The female pilot, whose body he had taken it from, must have received it as a gift…either that or she was very rich. A thought occurred to him.

He rummaged for his glasses, found them and put them on. He checked for an engraving. A name or a love note or something. He couldn't give it to her if it said, "To Somebody" on it. That would be awkward. It looked alright. It looked clean.

He buffed it against his shirt. "Hey. Eden. Wake up."

Eden's eyes remained unfocused. "Eden! Wake Up!"

She sighed as her eyes focused. "What?" she murmured.

"Here. Catch." Toad threw the bracelet to her and groggy as she was, she caught deftly, reflexively.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What…."

Toad got her clothes and crouched down beside her. "Just a little…something. For a good night's work."

Her mouth dropped open in shock at this statement. Then she laughed. "Thanks…I think."

"Come on. Get dressed. They'll think I raped you." He pushed her clothes to her. But she was still looking at the bracelet.

"Where did you get this?" she breathed. "It's beautiful."

He stood up. "Does it really matter? It's yours now." Eden looked up at him, into him. She knew. He looked away, then back again. "You're lucky, yeah?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're lucky." He put his hands in his pockets. "I was going to give it to Mystique, but you got to me first."

Eden slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. "Thank you Toad," she said quietly.

"Alright, hurry up now. You're fucking slow. Get dressed."

* * *

Mystique piloted the helicopter, with Eden huddled in the back. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth. 

"What's wrong with you?" Mystique called over the sound of the chopper.

"I've never been in a helicopter before. It's kinda making me sick," she yelled back.

Mystique rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare throw up," she said.

"I won't, I won't."

Mystique eased around the upcoming bend and saw the flashing lights and all of the people and police…not to mention the gaping whole in the roof of the train station. "Shit…" she muttered.

Eden was jogged out of her sickness by the sight of it all. "Oh my God…Look! Sabretooth!"

"I see it!" Sabretooth's hand was wrapped around Magneto's throat. Then suddenly, upon seeing the helicopter, he let go. "Xavier," she shouted back to Eden. "He must be in one of those cars down there…I wish I knew which one." She began the descent. Toad, holding a body bag over his shoulder, came in first, then Magneto, then Sabretooth. They took off together.

"What the hell happened?" asked Mystique as Magneto climbed into the front.

"Charles was out there. Trying to get the girl back."

Toad leaned forward. "You really should make helmets for all of us, boss."

"Shut up," said Mystique. "Do you think he knows?"

"There's no way to be sure. We have to go through with it tonight, anyway. It's the only chance we have. Just be alert."

"He won't be able to find any of us with Cerebro, at least." Mystique smiled.

"Ah my dear, you play your part so well." He leaned back into the seat as they headed to the fortress to retrieve the machine.

* * *

The body bag began to move and moan. "Oh fuck," Toad muttered, unzipping it. The girl, Rogue, upon seeing Toad, screamed. "Oh, can it, bitch! I won't eat you!" 

Eden kneeled down on the ground beside her. "Be quiet," she said.

"Who're you?" asked the girl.

"Shh," Eden whispered. She bent lower and bit Rogue on the neck. The shock of the bite disappeared as Rogue became comatose again.

"Goddammit! That was some kind of scream!" Toad exclaimed. "Oh! Here," he said, tossing Cyclops' glasses to her, "got you a souvenir."

"Ooo." She caught them and examined them. "Wait…are these?"

"Yup! He blew out the fucking ceiling! Fucking git," Toad laughed. "You should have seen it! The second I get those off, the whole ceiling! Fucking hell, it was beautiful. And he just crouches on the ground, holding his eyes closed. Oh, which reminds me," he turned to Sabretooth, "how are _you_ feeling?"

"I swear to God Toad, I'm gonna break your fucking neck."

Eden looked at Sabretooth. "What happened to you?"

Toad interjected. "Don't bother him, he's feeling a little fried." He was slammed up against the side of the chopper. The blow was hard enough to knock the chopper to one side, and right itself again. Toad was dazed. And Sabretooth was stopped only by Mystique telling him to do so.

Eden remained in her seat. Toad didn't move and Sabretooth gave him a half-grin. "Quit playing around," he growled.

Toad wiped the blood from his lips. "Yeah. Right." It was quiet for some minutes. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and sighed. "Hit like a girl."

* * *

Toad carried Rogue into the boat and cuffed her to it. She swooned, her head nodding. Then she woke up suddenly. 

"Who are you?" she asked, tears flooding her eyes.

He didn't answer her. He walked out of the boat. "Please! Let me go!" she called after him.

He laughed.

Mystique approached him. "Something funny?"

"I always find the pleas of the innocent funny, Mystique. You know that." He walked past her.

Sabretooth and Toad were supposed to take the other boat to the island, ahead of Mystique and Magneto. They would then secure the island—by eliminating the security, and he was looking forward to that.

Sabretooth was already at their boat, and he tossed Toad his headphones and walkie-talkie. Magneto was talking to Eden and Toad watched him smile at her, reassure her and then say good-bye.

He walked over to her. She smiled. "Good luck," she said.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "You be alright, here?"

Eden grinned. "I'll be fine. Just make sure you all come back."

"You won't have long to wait," he said. There was a long pause and then he said, "So…do you love me?"

Eden nodded.

"Right." He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "Bye." She kissed him and he turned and walked away.

Eden followed and wished Sabretooth luck as well. "Yeah," he replied aloofly. Then, she leaned over the boat and kissed his cheek. Toad's eyes widened and Sabretooth, though surprised by this gesture, seemed to take pleasure in the fact that it bothered Toad. "Don't kill each other, ok?" she said, pulling back

"Not tonight," Toad grinned. He looked over at Sabretooth. "We need brute strength for a job like this." Sabretooth swung and Toad ducked. Eden stepped away from the boat and Toad took the controls. He eased them out of the makeshift dock and into the open water. He turned to wave to Eden, but she was gone. He frowned, shrugged and put the boat on course.

* * *

When they were well on their way, he huffed down against the side of the boat and closed his eyes, readying himself for what lay ahead. Sabretooth grunted a laugh. 

"What?" said Toad, still closing his eyes.

Sabretooth growled another laugh. "You fucked her, didn't you?"

Toad waited before he responded then he opened his eyes, and put his hands behind his head. "Mighta done. Why," he asked, "you jealous?"

"Of you?" Sabretooth threw back his head in more laughter. "Oh no. If I fucked her, she wouldn't live through it."

"That's probably true," Toad agreed ambiguously. "The smell alone, she's got very weak lungs, it might kill her." Sabretooth grinned menacingly, but he didn't take the bait. Toad watched him, cautiously. "Well," he said, "at least I don't have to share the woman I fuck."

In a single move Sabretooth had his fingernails jammed against Toad's throat, lifted him up and hung him over the side of the boat.

"Give me a reason," the other man whispered.

Toad could barely breath, managed to say, "Toad's… swim, you fucking… moron…"

He knocked Sabretooth's arm away swiftly with a jab of his elbow, while at the same time kicking him in the gut and went plummeting into the water. He was caught in the boat's streamline, grabbed hold of the side and pulled himself up. He leapt over Sabretooth, who had fallen to the floor with the strength of Toad's blow. He stood over him, grabbed and broke his arm with a swish of his tongue.

Sabretooth kicked upwards in a roar of pain and Toad avoided it. He spun around as Sabretooth leapt to his feet, ignoring his arm, which was twisted in absolutely the wrong way. He made ready to charge at Toad. "Stop!" Toad shouted, "We're here!"

The Statue of Liberty loomed in the distance. Lights at nearby Ellis Island informed them that the UN summit had already begun. "We're late!" Toad turned to the controls and adjusted their bearings. He turned back to Sabretooth, who was still seething, though his arm had already healed itself. "Good practice though, Sabe."

Sabretooth stood closer to him and leaned in. "Someday," he growled into Toad's ear, "I will kill you. I'll enjoy it. And then, I'll eat you."

Toad smiled. "Sounds like fun, catman."

* * *

_Keep me…_

_Keep me…_

_Please…._

_Don't leave me…._

* * *

They eliminated the guards as fast as they could, outside and in. He crushed and broke them. Sabretooth mauled and mutilated them beyond recognition. Most of them never knew what happened. Most of them were not bad men. All of them were enemies. Their bones crunched so easily underneath him, as he leapt on them from the heights of the statue and its base. He could hear them screaming if Sabretooth wasn't quick enough with the kill. And then…silence. The silence of the kill was one that he relished in. It was different from any other quiet…so different and so…invigorating. 

It was the only time he felt a connection with everything that existed on earth. The only time the air was sweet and the sky was bright. The only time he could see clearly. He sighed and smiled. Sabretooth sauntered past him. "That it?"

Toad waited before he answered. He stayed in that beautiful moment for a little longer. Then, he took a deep satisfied breath, "Yes."

Sabretooth walked over to the edge of the water. "Wait…one more." A cop was walking along the shore, not seeing either of them. He was watching a boat come in. Mystique's boat. "I'll get him."

Toad nodded. "I'll be inside." He watched Sabretooth go behind the guard who was waving at the incoming boat. The guy might have been big, but he moved, as befit him, like a cat. The cop never saw him. He only felt the pain in his heart as Sabretooth's nail went in through his back, lifted him, and tossed him aside. Toad grinned. Toad laughed.

"I love this job," he said to himself, as he went inside.

* * *

And then it was dark. Dark like hell! Dark…pain…no air! 

_Toad's swim, you fucking moron…_

Toad's _not_ swimming! Toad's not breathing. Shit.

Fucking fire in the cold, blue lights like lighting all around him. His eyes, his eyes! God dammit! His fingers…fucking hell. He went up, he breathed, he breathed knives! and he went down!

He went up…not far enough…no air….water…salt water on his tongue, salt water in his burning, broken lungs!

If he screamed, he never heard it. If he cried, he never knew. All he knew was pain like nothing he had ever felt before. Nothing at all! White hot, searing pain, hell. Hell. Hell! He was in hell. He was screaming! He _was_ screaming…!

_Oh God…_

* * *

The power of the beam must have knocked him out. He didn't remember crashing into the boat below him. But he was there and he was soaked, with water from the river and his own blood. He never knew what happened. It was too fast. He was too confused. "Sabretooth! Wake up! The boat is sinking! Come on!" 

Whose voice was that? Fuck off! He was just hit with a fucking laser beam from some guy's fucking eyes! He was dying. Let him die!

"No! Come on!"

Had he spoken? He couldn't feel his mouth move. A pull on his arm. Small hands. Weak hands.

"Sabretooth!"

Then he woke up. Then he remembered everything. He knew where he was and he knew who was pulling his arm. His eyes flashed open!

"Where the hell—?"

Eden maintained a strong grip on his arm. "I snuck on your boat. I'm sorry! We have to go…come…on!" she pulled and pulled.

Sabretooth struggled to his feet and as he did, the deck gave way to his weight and they fell through into the water. He couldn't see a damn thing, so he felt his way past the sinking boat, until there was room for him to surface. It seemed to take forever! He broke through and gasped for air, the salt water torturing every open wound.

Eden grabbed hold of him as he struggled to shore. She fell back against the sand and breathed intermittently. Sabretooth stood over and watched the X-Jet disappear into the distance. He heard the wines of police boats. "Dammit," Eden whispered. "Come on, we have to find some place to hide."

"Why hide?" Sabretooth growled. "Let's just kill them."

Eden stood up, even at her full height she was just at his chest. "No. Between the two of us, one of us is going to get killed."

He grinned, the sirens coming closer. "Then you'd better hide."

Her eyes widened suddenly with something like fear and awe. "What?" he growled.

"Sabretooth…you're bleeding."

He looked down at himself. He was. Profusely. "The hell?"

"You're not healing. We've got to get out of here!" Sabretooth looked away from her. The sounds of far away voices, trembling, anxious voices filled his ears. He smelled their fear. He smelled their blood. He wanted to kill.

But Eden was right.

He moved and she followed. The other boat was around here, somewhere. They had to find it and go if they were to make it out of here alive. He swooned the more he walked, the heavy loss of blood catching up with him more quickly than he would have preferred. It was a strange new feeling…being injured…and staying injured. He felt each drop of blood leave his body and it was precious to him. He was not, nor could he will himself, to heal. The other boat appeared over a small hill in the sand. Eden ran for it. She made it. Would he collapse?

She ran back to him, and put her arm around his waist. Strange that her frail and otherwise broken body was such a comfort to him now, as unconsciousness slipped into his reality and reality slipped away.

They must have made it to the boat, because when he woke up, he was on it. When he woke up, there was a dead body on the deck and Eden was at the helm. There were loose bandages made up of his and Eden's clothes soaking up and attempting to stop the blood flow…that wouldn't stop. She was saving his life. Eden was saving both their lives.

The shame was incalculable.


	4. Chapter 4: Alone

**Chapter 4: Alone**

_And now, when I am gone,_

_And I have left you on your own,_

_Will you forget your love for me?_

_When I have left you…all alone?_

It was raining somewhere. It was raining everywhere. It was cold. The air was full of moisture and the sky rumbled and broke. Sabretooth awoke weaker than he had ever been in his life. They were still in the boat, and rain and river sloshed all around them. Eden was awake, though night had fallen some time ago and the sky was the inky blue that comes only before sunrise, clouded over with the haze of a storm. "Where are we?"

"We're here. I couldn't move you."

Sabretooth struggled to sit up. "What happened? You kill somebody?"

She shrugged. "He was on the boat when we got here," she said, gesturing to the dead body of the uniformed man, who looked merely asleep, and uninjured. Were it not for the two small puncture wounds in his neck, one could have assumed that the man had died of natural causes. "He must have been waiting for us. He didn't see me. And I have his walkie-talkie." She held it out for him to see. "I used it to make sure we weren't followed."

Sabretooth nodded and was truly surprised by her resourcefulness. It was quiet for some time between them. The only sounds were those of the raging storm around them.

"Sabretooth." Eden said suddenly. "I think Toad is dead."

He waited. She said nothing else. "And? What? You want me to cry?"

"No." She stood up and wrapped her arms around herself. "But I think I might." She swallowed. "I saw him, and that woman with the white hair. Storm. She hit him with a bolt of lightning. The electricity went right up his tongue…and into his whole body." She paused. "And he screamed. He screamed like…" She ran her hand over her face. "And then, he went flying into the river, electricity just exploding out of his body like a firework. It was so awful. I went into the water after him but it was too dark, I couldn't…see. I couldn't find him. So I came back to the boat."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She turned and stared right at him. Her eyes were dry. "Because there's no one else to tell."

He returned her gaze. "Well, listen, the only thing I regret about Toad buying the farm is that I didn't get to send him there myself." She never broke contact. His assertion did not faze her.

Instead she maintained a steady, expressionless gaze, "Let's go inside and eat something. You're still not healed all the way," she said. "And those bandages need to be changed."

She opened the cabin door and stepped out into the storm. She moved with the wind and somehow seemed immune to it. The rain fell at a slant and threatened to tear her down. Something kept her on her feet. She walked as one would to one's execution, with a mixture of fear and stalwart resignation.

Sabretooth was about to follow, but stopped. He refused to be completely useless. He turned and hoisted the body with all the strength he had out onto the deck and dumped it unceremoniously overboard.

_

* * *

Open your eyes._

Blinding light!

_Close your eyes. _

Blissful darkness…pain.

_Open your eyes._

That damn light again!

_Close your eyes._

Now what do you want me to do Voice? Who are you anyway? And where the fuck am I?

_Look at his pupils, sir. They're actually fascinating. See? Open your eyes._

The light! Get rid of that damn light!

_They're heart-shaped. What purpose do you suppose that serves? Close your eyes._

Open my eyes and close my eyes. Open my eyes, close my eyes. How many times can I do that? All my life, I suppose. I could do that all my life. But that light! It burns fucking terrible. My eyes are burning…my body is burning. I can't speak. And I can't open my eyes unless he says so. I won't unless he says so.

_Mutant? Speak. Tell us about your eyes_.

My eyes suck. I can't tell you that, because I can't speak. My fucking tongue.

_His tongue has been severely burned. Looks like electrocution. I don't know if it can be repaired. I suppose we could amputate some of the more damaged areas. It's insanely long. Like a frog's. Proportionally, of course._

Like a toad's, fucking git. I'm Toad! I'm _The_ Toad! And who the fuck are you!

_Give me that syringe! Hurry! _

Screams. I don't need my eyes. I smell you Voice! Fuck! Pain! A needle. I know needles. Needles and sleep. Sleep…close my eyes, open my eyes…open my eyes, close my…

* * *

It rained for days. And during each of those days, Eden changed his bandages, Eden brought him food, Eden brought him water. She said nothing. And he couldn't get his mind around it, around her. She should wait until he couldn't fight sleep for another second, sneak into his room and pour her poison into his neck while his powers were focusing their meager efforts on his many wounds.

The untamed laser beam, raw and uncontrollably strong, had more than weakened him. It had nearly destroyed him. It had overworked his powers to near breaking point. He was not, as he had often believed himself to be, invincible. And it killed him to think that. It killed him!

It killed him even more to think that he should be dead but for Eden…Eden who wasn't even allowed to come on missions which might involve a fight, which was every mission—Eden, whose weaknesses far outweighed her strengths—were it not for her, he would be at the bottom of the river around Liberty Island, not to be seen again but by police dredging it for the bodies of his victims.

After three days, he was nearly healed, inside and out. The internal organs righted themselves, he felt every one. The bones healed. The wounds closed. The bruises vanished. Eden removed his bandages for the last time.

"You should have killed me," he growled. "And now it's too late."

She looked tired. She looked sick. She sighed, "I don't want to kill you Sabretooth."

"After what I said?"

"You've always hated Toad. I knew that before I saved your life." The words stung. She sat down beside him on the bed. "And I know how you feel about me. And I know the promise you made to Toad on the boat. So you see, I'm stronger than you think."

"I don't feel anything about you."

She wasn't looking at him. "You hate Toad because he's strong. And you hate me because I'm weak. You hate me because Magneto sees my strengths and uses them and you can't understand that. You hate me because my body is frail and if you wanted to kill me right now, you know you could do it. You hate me because I wouldn't be able to put up a fight." She turned her eyes to him and smiled. "And now, here we are. The weakest, and the strongest. And I have kept you alive and you hate that more than anything else."

There was nothing for him to say, nothing that would have made any sense. There was nothing he could deny. Laid out like that, it all made perfect sense. He hadn't given it that much concise thought, but it was clearly put and clearly understood and clearly true.

"You left something out," he said, getting up. "I hate you because I'm grateful to you. Because I owe you now. I don't like being in debt."

"You don't owe me anything," she mumbled.

"Shut up," he snapped. He went to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. There's no point hanging around here. Magneto's gone. Mystique's gone."

"We have to wait for them!" Eden cried. "They'll come back! We can find them, together."

He shook his head. "Nobody's paying me to stick around here. I'm not a hero. We were supposed to be running the world by now."

"Sabretooth! You can't leave!"

He grabbed her by the shirt suddenly. "I can do whatever I want and I'm leaving."

"You said you owed me! I'm calling in the debt! Don't leave me here!"

He let her go. "Then come with me! Either way, I'm gone." He turned and moved towards the door again. She grabbed his arm. "Sabretooth! Please! Please…"

Sabretooth knocked her away with his free hand, as one would swat a fly. She went careening into the bed and fell against it. She heaved a weak and pain-filled breath. It made him sick….and sorry. "I have to leave. You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"Why I'm leaving."

She rubbed her hand over an injury sustained by Sabretooth's blow. "Why are you leaving then?"

"BECAUSE I LOST!" he growled. He roared! "More than once, to the same people! I LOST!"

Eden stared at him, frozen. He stared back. She had seen him weak and near death, and now she saw him like that again, all pride stripped away. It was now, and only now, that he saw her tears and he knew that they fell for him. "Don't…" he said.

"Victor…please…"

It was the last thing he heard her say. The last thing. His name, his real name, on her lips, in his hears. A plea, a desperate, fleeting plea. It would stay with him forever.

* * *

It was more like a dream than anything else. A strange dream. One of those dreams that you wake up from and can't remember but you _do_ remember that you dreamed! And how he dreamed! And the dreams ached! And the dreams…they weren't dreams, but they weren't real either.

_Stand up, Mortimer. It is Mortimer, isn't it?_

He nodded and stood.

_Strange name, cruel parents. Cruel parents who abandoned you, correct?_

He nodded again.

_Open your eyes, Mortimer. Open them, so we can all see your eyes. Your eyes are very interesting to us. Your eyes are strangely beautiful and ugly. All at once._

He opened his eyes. There were people all around him. White lab coats, syringes, stethoscopes and shiny metal tables. Shiny metal instruments, blurry white, everything! Everything was a shiny metal, blurry white nothing. But there were people in the blur and he could see them and they were watching him. They had blurry faces. He wished for his glasses.

_Now, Mortimer, blink for us. Blink again and again and again. Until I tell you to stop._

Sure, Voice. I'll do that. And he did. Blink, blink, blink.

_Again please._

Blink, blink.

_You can stop now. Very good. Now, Mortimer, open your mouth._

I don't want to do that, Voice, it hurts. It hurts a lot.

_Do it._

And he did it. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. The Voice talked to the Blurry Faces.

_Observe his teeth, deeply inset in the gums. And his tongue, we've discovered it can stretch up to nearly eighteen feet long._

Twenty if I stretch it!

_This mutant has the most awesome musculature. You can close your mouth now, Mortimer. Lie down on the bed._

And he did.

_We'll have to test this out, but I think he can crush and/or lift several hundred pounds._

He laughed. And the Voice stopped talking.

_Why are you laughing Mortimer? Is something funny?_

I'm laughing because I can lift more than a ton and crush more than two, you daft git! He laughed again.

_Mortimer. Nothing I've said is funny._

OH MY GOD! OH GOD! WHAT THE FUCK! I'LL STOP LAUGHING! GODDAMMIT! I'LL STOP!


	5. Chapter 5: Return

**Chapter 5: Return**

It may have been a year. He had lost count of the days, of the months. The whiteness, the lights, the sheer, glaring brightness of it all—it drowned out his thoughts, his mind. He felt almost mad. Oh, the food came everyday and every day he hoped, he prayed that someone would come in with a spot of metal on them—a button, a wedding ring, anything!

They were careful, though, damn them. Too careful. It was becoming more than he could bare. They had even assigned him guards that had no fillings in their teeth!

To be without such a simple thing as metal, a substance he had taken for granted, he realized now—to be without it was to not breathe. Not eat. Not sleep. A sense in him was gone, a need, a feeling—life itself. His powers may not have defined _who_ he was, but they did define _what_ he was and he was not himself in this plastic, white-bright cell.

Charles had stopped coming some weeks ago. Oh he would come back, most assuredly. He wished he would bring him a book or something during one of his visits. Music…he could listen to some music right now.

"Adagio…Moonlight Sonata." He began to hum it. Then, the thought of a piano and its copper strings and thick metal pedals, of a violin and its strings, of all the metal that is involved in music, began to drive him insane and he stopped himself humming.

The cell door opened. Ah, Charles was back. Magneto smiled and began humming again. "You know, Charles," he said, "I've been wondering if you could bring something besides a chess board with you every time you visit me. Something to read perhaps?"

Charles stared at him. The guard pushed his chair in a little further and left. "Have you ever seen 'The Great Escape,' Eric? It's a fascinating film."

Magneto froze mid-hum. "What did you say?"

Charles wheeled closer to him. " 'The Great Escape' Eric, the one about the soldiers in a Nazi prison camp who escape, hence the name?" His eyes flashed yellow and Magneto understood.

He grinned thinly. "It's one of my favorite films, my dear."

_

* * *

I've been here for so long_

_I do not know the day_

_I've forgotten who I am_

_And the Voices in my head all say_

_Good bye, love, Good bye_

_You must let go_

_I tell them you are waiting_

_And they tell me, oh, no. No. No. _

* * *

"So, where are we going?"

Magneto closed his eyes. He was listening to the all the workings of the helicopter, loving the feel of the mechanisms, each _thwap_ of the blades going around and around and around…

It had been a long shot, this business with Stryker. He had known that going into it. It was no less clear to him now. But they had lived, they had escaped.

_He_ had escaped.

He opened his eyes and extended his hand to touch Mystique's arm, to take her hand, to kiss her hand. She smiled, but did not lift her eyes from the controls. In another life, he may have been in love with a woman such as her…perhaps he was, after all.

The ocean came into view and they soared over it, white-capped waves splashing up and down, the sea surging with winter weather. It looked so alive. Ice shattered and formed, he could see the shadow of their helicopter on the surface of the blessed, living sea.

He had never felt freer. This had been no failure. Rather, it was the beginning of victory.

"Did you say something, Pyro?"

The boy stopped playing with his lighter. "I was just wondering where we were going."

Magneto sighed the sigh of the content. "Home, Pyro. We're going home."

* * *

Home? Home was a rock! A cave! Monstrous and without limits. A heavy black-green forest enshrouded the place. There was barely enough visible surface area to land the helicopter. There was a waterfall that looked at least a hundred feet high and cold, inky black pools all around like a moat.

The Lair…most appropriately named.

"I'm guessing you guys don't get cable here?" he muttered

Magneto laughed. The man had a wicked deep laugh. "I knew I liked you, John."

Pyro smiled. Something about being liked by Magneto made him feel stronger. That's what was different here. That's what made him more powerful than Professor X. Pyro felt limitless with Magneto, as if his powers could only increase and nobody could ever force him to hide them. He controlled fire! He need not pretend to be weaker than he was, not here, not with this guy, with these people. He could be, and needed to be, as strong as possible, as powerful as the substance he controlled.

They disembarked. The helicopter was well concealed, surrounded by all of these trees. The slate grey fortress was taller when you looked up at it. He was curious about what it looked like inside. He had doubts about it being very comfortable.

But it was fucking cool.

He followed the two of them off the landing pad. They walked slowly, talking all the while. They were kind of a weird couple. He shrugged. It takes all kinds.

Pretty soon he was ahead of them, just barely, boyishly eager to see the inside of his new "home." His eyes caught something, above him, in the trees. He stopped. He looked up. A girl looked down.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. She flipped lithely out of the tree and landed before him. His lighter was out and he held a ball of flame in his right hand, ready. The girl, short, slim, and kind of green smiled. She was not smiling at him. In fact, she ignored his flaming hand and raced past him as if she didn't see him. She had her arms around Magneto by the time he turned to follow her and Magneto was smiling too, though he seemed surprised.

Mystique sidled past them and walked up to Pyro. "You can put that out," she said scornfully. "She won't hurt you."

Pyro might have blushed. "She surprised me. I didn't know anyone else was here."

"Neither did I," the woman responded. "I figured she'd have left by now, but I guess she had no way off the island."

"Who is she?" They walked on towards the gaping, cavernous entrance. "She came out of nowhere."

"Her name is Eden. I don't know very much about her. She's…," Mystique smiled, a thin, playful smile, that Pyro found strangely attractive, "Eric's pet."

Pyro raised an eyebrow. "Some kinda pet."

She shrugged. "He likes snakes."

* * *

It wasn't long before Magneto and Mystique left Pyro on his own without so much as a tour of the place. "Eden, she'll give you anything you need," Magneto had said.

Eden was cute. Very cute. She was slightly older than he was, he knew that. He could tell. Her eyes were older. Her face was sad, somehow, like sad with experience. Knowledge and pain had made her older. "Tell me your name," she said, smiling. Joy at their return masked any kind of tragic expression in her.

"John," he said automatically. He shook his head. "Pyro," he corrected himself. "I'm Pyro."

"Pyro," she repeated. "Are you," she shrugged, "are you hungry?"

He followed her to a kitchen. There were stores of food in here, enough for a lifetime. He sat down at a table. "So, what are you, like, the Brotherhood mom, or something?"

A smiled played on her green-red lips. "I guess," she said quietly. She opened a can of soup, put it on the stove. Made him a sandwich with butter and jam. Got him a drink of water. Sat opposite him. "There isn't very much for me to do, you see. So, I just do what I can."

He ate the sandwich, he hadn't realized how hungry he was. "What's wrong with you?"

Again she smiled, though his question was rude. "A lot," was the only explanation she gave. The soup boiled and she served it to him in a bowl.

"Thanks," he mumbled. He ate and drank.

"You want a beer?" she asked.

Oh God yes! Suddenly joining the Brotherhood had become completely worth it. "Yeah, sure," Pyro responded. She gave him a beer. A cold, icy beer! "Thanks." Delicious. Better than delicious. He downed it, grateful for it, wanting another. He was given another. "You have one too," he insisted. And she did.

They drank together and Pyro felt strangely happy. He had been almost lonely throughout their journey here. Conversation was sparse and the helicopter was louder than the X-Jet. It made him think how powerful Magneto could be with equipment such as the X-Men possessed. The odds were unfair, on a level. He hoped, with his powers and his rage and his strengths, that he could even out those odds, or at least attempt to.

"So," he said, swallowing, feeling the beer, "what exactly do you do? I mean, opening a can of soup isn't exactly superhuman."

Eden smiled. She took a swig of the beer and finished it. Then she was on the ceiling.

Pyro blinked. He shrugged. "Not bad."

She inched her way along the ceiling and hung upside down in front of him, still smiling. He nodded, impressed, but not taken. She hung there for awhile, her shirt bunching up around her cleavage. Now that was impressive…

"Not bad," he said again. "Anything else?"

The smile widened. Her lips parted, revealing two very long, very white…very sharp fangs. Her face was so close to his that he could see green veins of what might possibly be poison in the teeth and around the gums. He was no longer smiling. Her teeth bared, she opened her mouth, wider than was humanly possible, and a long, thick, narrow, forked black tongue emerged and wrapped itself around his neck.

He didn't move. He couldn't. "I've…got a thing. With snakes," he said quietly. She held him for a minute longer then retracted her tongue and flipped back onto the floor, standing upright.

Pyro remembered he had hands and touched his neck, wet with her saliva. He hadn't liked that at all. Still…a tongue like that could prove useful in other, less frightening, scenarios. "Why haven't I heard of you? Why don't we know about you?"

Eden raised an eyebrow. " 'We?'"? she said. "Who's 'we'?"

Pyro shook his head. "Them. They! The X-Men…why don't _they_ know about you?"

She shrugged. "They aren't looking for me. They don't need to know about me."

"You're a threat to them."

"Am I?" Eden took his plate and bottles, put the plate in the sink and the bottles in a trash bin.

"Well, I'm guessing you're poisonous."

"You guess right," she confirmed. She turned the water on and began to wash his plate.

He got up. "You don't have to do that."

She pulled away from his outstretched arm. "Yes, I do."

Pyro backed away. "Whatever," he muttered, confused, but not unwilling to move. She finished washing up and turned to face him.

"You want a tour?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I do."

"Well, come on then. I'll show you around." They walked through the gaping doorway, carved out of the stone interior of the mountain itself. She turned again. "Pyro," she said.

"What?"

Eden smiled and took his hand. "Welcome home."

* * *

The metal balls above his desk ticked back and forth as he let his thoughts wander. They wandered to Charles, the X-Men, his and Mystique's new plans, freshly laid out. They wandered to Pyro, a powerful, new edition to their group, to Eden, whose unexpected presence here made him happier than he thought possible. She was here now, waiting for him to acknowledge her. She was sitting on the ceiling above the entrance.

"Come down, my dear," he beckoned quietly.

She scaled the wall and walked across the floor to him. She sat at his feet and looked up at him. Tears glistened in her eyes.

"What are those for?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"Nothing in particular," she answered, letting them fall. "For you, for me. Mystique...and…"

"And Sabretooth and Toad," he finished for her. He let his hand fall and he lifted her chin up with his fingers. "Don't cry for them. Don't cry at all."

"Yes, sir," she whispered. He wiped the tears away with his thumb and forefinger.

"You've been alone for a long time," he said. "I understand. I've wept myself, when no one was looking. Prison is a strange and lonely place. I suppose this was your prison, in a sense."

"Yes, sir," she said again. "I'm glad I'm not alone anymore."

"I'm sure you are," he said. Magneto watched her. Her thoughts wandered as his did. "What are you thinking about, my dear?"

"Pyro," she answered. "I think he'll do well here."

"You like him?"

She frowned. Shrugging, "Yes," she said. "I think he'll obey orders."

"I think so too," Magneto agreed. "He is vengeful, and vengeance makes one powerful, though, at times, not as easy to control."

Eden looked up at him. "Yours is the path to achieve vengeance."

"Among other things."

"Of course."

He stroked her hair again and observed how it twisted between his fingers and fell against her face. He looked at her eyes, slit-pupils reflecting his gaze. A sense of peace came over him. "Eden, I have decided that you and Pyro shall work together."

Her eyes widened. "Work together? You mean, I'm going on missions?"

Magneto was glad to please her. "Yes."

Eden was speechless for some time. "I don't understand. I thought—"

"Pyro will do the heavy work. He's more than capable. There will be certain tasks, however, that will be more sensitive, less," he grinned, "explosive," he finished, pointedly. "Those tasks will be yours."

"What kind of tasks?"

"All in good time." Magneto smiled down at her. "I'll also need you to keep Pyro in check when Mystique and I are on assignments of our own. You have a calming affect on the more rage filled creatures."

"Anything," she said, "anything you want. I'll do whatever you want."

"I'm counting on that," he said. She took his hand in hers and kissed it. Twice, three times.

"Thank you," she said.

"Go on, now," Magneto said, "get to know our friend better."

She got up and kissed his cheek. She left.

* * *

Pyro found himself drawn to an area of the Lair that Eden had called her favorite. The deep black pools and waterfall that drowned almost all sound. Above him were stars such as he'd never seen. The great, cavernous walls were wet with the falls' spray and all around him it was dark and the night was heavy and full. The moon glistened off the walls and the pools, its reflection shuddering with the breeze. It filled him with a sense of awe and a peculiar belonging. The moon there in the deep black water…

"Show me your powers."

He turned at the sound of her voice. She stood on the other side of the pools, wet and dripping. How long had she been swimming there?

He said nothing. He took out his lighter, flicked it and a ball of flame erupted in his hand. The flame grew, he felt the fire in him, around him, like always. It grew and flooded the sky. He shaped it. It twisted and writhed and grew a long body and a snake's head, fangs, tongue and all. He sent it to her. The water caught the orange light and illuminated her.

She felt the heat and stepped back instinctually and he pulled it away, sent it upwards. It crawled across the sky, slithering around the stars and then he wrapped it around the moon. She came to his side, swimming across the water. "It's beautiful," she breathed. He made it seem as though the flame-snake devoured the moon and she gasped and laughed. "Oh!"

He looked at her and the fire was in her eyes as she gazed at it and it made them beautiful. He wanted her to laugh again. Pyro changed the fire into the shape of a cow and made it leap over the moon.

"And the cow jumped over the moon!" she laughed. He did this several times, tried to remember the rest of the rhyme. The dish and spoon…he made them too and they ran away, back into his hand.

She turned her attention to his hand. He made the snake again and it slithered between his fingers. "Fantastic," she said, barely audible over the waterfall. He extinguished the flame. She grabbed his hand and ran her fingers over it, checking for burns. Her fingers stroked his gently as she turned his hand over and examined it.

"It doesn't hurt me," he said.

"Would it hurt me?"

"Yes. Just, not me," he replied. She stopped examining his hand but still held it. She looked up at him, into him, her eyes deep green and violet, the pupils slit, oblong black diamonds. "Your power is amazing," she said to him.

"Thanks."

They stared at each other for some time, but he had to look away. He never looked into peoples' eyes. He had learned not too. It frightened him. It made him feel vulnerable.

"I didn't show you your room!" she said suddenly. "Come on," she got up. "You can come back out here later, if you want. Come have tea with me and I'll show you where you'll sleep."

"Ok."

Pyro didn't drink tea. And he didn't want to go back inside. But he did both that night.

He was happy to do both.

* * *

…and somewhere…farther away…a man writhed and screamed…memories of past tortures flooded his consciousness along with pain…the Voice spoke to him and he told it things he would never tell…had sworn not to tell…

…each time he told the Voice one thing, it asked for another…._pain_…and another…._more pain_…and another….on and on….and on…

The pain was great…but, not as great as The Toad…I AM THE TOAD…

No…he would not tell the Voice this one thing…no, he would not…

_Who do you work for?_

NO!

_Who is your leader?_

NEVER!

_Who saved your life? Who? Who?_

NO! I WON'T TELL YOU VOICE!

_You will, Mortimer. I promise you that. You're wise not to tell me now, though. It's the only thing keeping you alive._


	6. Chapter 6: Pyro

**Chapter 6: Pyro**

Darkness outside, darkness within. A single light over his desk, papers all around. Other people saw this as chaos. Doctor Marco saw chaos as organization in its truest, rawest form. So, in a sense, other people were right.

He read the email again.

**_Senator James Duro of South Carolina to Doctor Lucas Marco, San Antonio Hospital, Brazil,_**

**_Greetings. As you may already know, the United States Senate is leaning towards are more tolerant standpoint on the issue of mutant rights. The strange and inexplicable turnaround of our most staunch supporter, Senator Kelly, has greatly impacted our cause. Your experiments with mutants, though ethically reprehensible in the view of many in the United States, are, I feel, necessary in procuring a weapon with which to fight this imminent threat. You will, I hope, continue to share your results with us, without any danger of your identity being revealed. Keep in consistent contact, Doctor. Ours is a righteous cause and the enemy will, with your help and persistence, be dealt with as soon as possible._**

**_Yours sincerely,_**

**_James Duro_**

**_Senator, South Carolina_**

**_Public Relations Officer, The Guard_**

Well, wasn't that something? He hadn't been in contact with the United States Senate in over six months. The last he'd heard was from Senator Kelly informing him that his services were no longer required. Duro, though not a name he was keenly familiar with, was a man to be trusted, be remembered Kelly saying once. And a member of The Guard as well…considerable.

Doctor Lucas Marco was a United States citizen, forced to stop his experiments with mutants in late 1998. He had moved to Brazil, where his experiments were less controversial. The Brazilian government was more interested in his work and not as concerned with its ethical implications. When Senator Kelly had been elected to office he had contacted Marco and requested all the information he had on mutants. Kelly was going to the means by which Marco's work would finally receive the laud and appreciation it deserved.

So Kelly had said.

Then something had happened. Kelly had had some kind of moral awakening, decided that mutants were "our brothers." They deserved the same rights of citizenship "we all so richly partake in." He had abandoned Marco.

Marco had been disappointed but hardly dissuaded from continuing his experiments. Continue them he had and he was reaching new heights, new levels of understanding. He picked up his phone and called someone who would have a better idea of what to do.

"Weir? Yeah, it's me, Marco." He listened and laughed. "You got on too, huh? Do you know anything about this Duro, Rhys? No…neither do I. Well…yeah…sounds pretty convincing." He listened. "Yeah, I don't want another Kelly incident either. I suffered huge financial losses after that."

Huge financial losses…huge! The last thing, the very last thing he ever thought about, the last thing on his mind before death overtook him—were huge financial losses!

She came out of nowhere, maybe the ceiling, and thrust her teeth into his neck. The poison acted immediately and he died.

* * *

"How did go?" Pyro asked. He'd been sitting in their dinky hotel room for more than three hours, waiting for her.

"He's dead," Eden replied. "What's for dinner?"

"A Brazilian delicacy," he answered, lifting up the greasy paper bag and shaking it. "McDonald's."

"Fine with me." She took it and picked at the fries. "There was so much information on his computer. Including," she reached into her pocket, "this."

He read the printed email carefully. "Sounds like another hit for us."

She shook her head, taking it back. "It's harder to hit a Senator in D.C. than a no-name doctor in Brazil. It would have to look like an accident. Marco's death can look like murder and people will suspect exactly what went on. A mutant killed him, revenge for his experiments." Eden shrugged, biting into the cold chicken sandwich.

"Give me that," Pyro reached and took the sandwich. He made a flame in his hand and held the sandwich over it. "Fire can look like an accident," he mused. He gave her sandwich back to her.

"Thanks," she said. "Much better," she bit into it and smiled. She chewed contemplatively and swallowed. "Magneto will know what to do."

"Yeah."

"Anything to drink?"

"Ah," Pyro replied playfully, "I have brought us the great American drink." He pulled out a six pack with Portuguese writing on it. He shrugged. "It's still beer, no matter what language it's in."

"Too true!" she laughed. They split the beer between them. The six pack was gone in forty five minutes. Eden lay back on the bed, Pyro was on the floor, making small fireworks above his head.

"John," she said suddenly. She never called him John. He sat up. "Yeah?" he responded.

"What do you feel when you kill someone?"

He thought about it. The question was strangely put. What did he feel? "I don't know," he tried to avert it.

"I feel powerful," Eden said. "Do you think that's wrong?"

"Wrong? Wrong like, against God wrong, or mentally wrong?"

She turned over, leaning on her elbow. "I guess I mean like God wrong."

He leant back against the bed, looking upside down at her. "You'd have to believe in God for it to be God wrong."

"You don't?

Pyro flinched. "No."

Eden said nothing for awhile. She seemed to mull over what he said. Without looking at her, he knew her eyes were downwards and she was biting her lower lip, as she often did what she was thinking. "I do."

She slid down next to him on the floor. "You do too."

Her presumption made him angry. "No, I really don't."

"Pyro, just because you're mad at God doesn't mean you don't believe in him."

He just stared at her. Why was she right? Always right? It made him furious! She knew him better than anyone did, better than the Professor, and he could read minds! Eden didn't need to read his mind to know him, know his thoughts. Why was that?

"Don't be angry, Pyro, please. We won't talk about it anymore," she said.

"No, it's fine," he said through his teeth. "You're right. I'm mad at God. You know why? You don't know that too, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Because I'm me. And He made me. And that's why I'm mad at God." He looked away. Were there tears in his eyes? No, no, no. He would not—but he was…crying.

Eden took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He didn't know why, but laughed just then. He laughed and laughed and the tears fell onto her hands. "Yeah, I guess it is." She laughed too and he kissed her.

She stopped. She still smiled. He could gauge her reaction. She said nothing. She got up and turned down their beds. "It's time to sleep," Eden said.

"I just kissed you."

"I know."

She looked at him, no expression evident but quiet amusement at his confusion. "Oh…kay…," he muttered. "It's…time to sleep I guess."

She nodded and lay down, covered herself and turned away from him. "Good night Pyro."

He stood there. Should he just jump into bed with her? It was a fleeting fantasy that quickly ended with him receiving a series of very painful bites. Good night? "Yeah…right."

* * *

For the first time in what seemed like years, Toad was able to open his eyes on his own. He was conscious. He knew where he was and what was happening to him. Then, the lights went out. He stood up.

"Mortimer, can you find us?" This was the first time he had heard the Voice clearly and distinctly, not the usual echo in his mind. "Can you find us?" he asked again.

He was blind! He could see nothing! No matter. He breathed through his nose.

He could _smell_ nothing! Disorientation overtook him. He was senseless. No smells, no sights.

An electric shock pulsed through him. "Find us Mortimer!" said the Voice. But he heard it everywhere. He could not pinpoint the location of the Voice. He stood there like a fool, blind, deaf and dumb!

"You fucking coward," he growled.

Another electric prod! His reflexes should have stopped that from happening a second time, but without his senses he had no reflexes. He felt normal, but his reaction time was stinted. He turned to where the prod had come from. Then it hit him in the back. He spun around.

"Where are you!"

"Right here," the Voice whispered in his ear. Toad reached out to grab the Voice but there was no one there. Nothing but another electrical prod. God, what was happening to him!

The darkness was full and frightening.

"How weak you are, Mortimer, when your powers are held at bay!" the Voice taunted.

"Yeah, that's what you think." He charged at nothing. He smashed whatever he came in contact with. He was sure he killed someone. He broke computers and tables, sparks filled the air. He saw glimpses of blurry frightened faces. Finally, he was knocked out with a needle when they realized at last that the numerous electrical prods could not stop him.

_

* * *

I cannot remember the feel of your hand_

_Or the smell of your hair_

_Or the sound of your voice_

_But you were there!_

_I know in my soul_

_Despite all despair_

_You were there…_

* * *

It was early morning. Montreal was cold! Magneto hadn't exactly gone all out with this apartment of their's. Still, it was a bed, it was a bathroom. But damn! It was cold!

He turned over in bed. Eden was still asleep. She was shivering in her dreams. He pulled the covers over her bare shoulders and back.

They had arrived late last night. They weren't scheduled to act until later this evening. It all had to be just right. Personally, Pyro didn't understand why they couldn't just blow stuff up and go! Why all this precise, meticulous scheduling?

At any rate, they were there early with nothing to do and no TV to watch. So, they had talked, as they often did. And then, he'd asked it—just to see what she would say.

"Remember when I first got here? Magneto said you'd give me anything I needed," he'd said. "How far does that go?"

She had half grinned, half grimaced. "How far do you want it to go?"

He'd kissed her and she had kissed back. He'd pushed her down on the bed. "Farther than this," he'd whispered. And they went…well, much farther than he had thought she'd actually go.

At Xavier's school, Pyro had been well liked. He knew he was thought of as 'attractive'. In a school like that though, where the guy in charge could read your mind and knew everything that went on with everyone, sex wasn't exactly a comfortable situation. Plus, the girls were difficult…they were so…independent. And Pyro, though liked and 'crushed on,' was not what the girls considered 'boyfriend material.' He was the 'bad boy.' They wanted a committed guy, who would sleep only with them. Needless to say, this night with Eden had been the most action he had gotten…in a very long time.

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knew his eyes were opening, the bleak sun was peeking in through the dirty shades and Eden was sitting up, her back to him, on the edge of the bed. She had her arms wrapped around her, resting her head on her knees.

"Hey," he said. "You alright?"

A nod.

He touched her back. She tensed. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Pyro moved himself to her side of the bed and propped himself up on his elbow, looking up at her. She did not look at him. Her eyes were glazed over and focused blindly on nothing. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"I was just thinking…about…something."

"I'm not gonna get mad at you for thinking." She shivered. "I've got an idea," he said, getting up. He yanked his boxers and pants on. "Let's get out of here, get some coffee, warm up."

She nodded. "Sounds good to me."

He handed her clothes to her. She took them, still not looking at him. "I know what this is," he said suddenly. "Last night."

She looked up at him as she slowly got dressed. "What about it?"

"You're upset about it. We shouldn't have—"

"I'm not upset about anything."

"You're a fucking liar and you suck at it."

Eden stared at him. "You want to know?"

"Yeah, I want to know."

"Fine. Look, Pyro," she looked away. "Last night…it meant nothing to me. You understand?"

It hit him hard. He hadn't realized that it had meant something to him until that moment. He ran his hands through his hair ferociously. "Wait…wait a minute. Did you—was that a—a pity fuck?"

She sighed shaking her head. "No."

"It was!" Was he yelling? "Don't fucking lie to me!"

"I'm not!" she matched his pitch. "It wasn't a—it wasn't that. Not at all. I like you, Pyro. I'm just—".

"Just what? Following orders!"

"You asked me," she whispered.

"Goddammit! Would you fuck Magneto if he asked you to?" She just stared at him. His eyes widened. "Have you?" She said nothing. "Jesus Christ!"

He stormed across to the other side of the room and threw a chair. She let him. She just watched as he threw stuff. His stuff, her stuff. Finally she spoke.

"He's never asked me," Eden said. "I don't pity you, Pyro. You don't understand."

"I don't want to!" he screamed. "You—you're like fucking—I don't know what's wrong with you! What the hell is wrong with you! If I told to kill yourself because it would make me happy, would you do it!"

"You're being ridiculous."

He stepped up closer to her. He wanted to—he almost—

Eden raised her eyes to his. "Are you going to hit me?" she asked quietly.

He stood there and stared at her, then down at his own hands, tense and rigid, ready. It took everything in him not to do it. "You don't make sense to me. You lie there and you take it. You act like you enjoy it—"

"I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it."

"You just told me it meant nothing to you!"

"Because…it didn't! Don't you understand? I can't love you!" Her eyes flashed. "Why not!"

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

He stepped backwards and tripped over his own feet. He caught himself before he fell, grabbing onto the bed. "You are so _fucked up_!"

"Where are you going!" she screamed!

He threw his shirt on. "I'm gonna go blow something up!"

"John!" She ran towards him and he stopped her with a fire wall. "It's Pyro, Eden! I'm Pyro!"

He ran out of the hotel, he forgot his coat. He ran faster and faster. He ran to the mutant clinic, when he could have taken the bus. Breathing hard and hating harder, he stared at the façade. Clinic in name only. The inside truth was far darker than that. Mutants were tortured in there because they were looking for a 'cure.' The so-called doctors sucked money out of them as painful experiments disguised as science were performed on them. He thought of that, he thought of Eden, he thought of everything in the world that made him angry and thrust a huge fireball through the window.

"PYRO!" Eden cried, breathless from behind him. "We were supposed to wait!"

"I got tired of waiting!" he yelled over the screams and the roar of the flames.

She did something then, something he would not have expected. She ran for the door of the clinic. He grabbed her. "What the hell are you doing!"

"There are mutants in there! We were supposed to wait!" His grip weakened and she pulled away. She rushed into an opening in the flames and disappeared.

"EDEN!"

A long, loud, all too familiar whistling raced over him. The air pressure almost leveled him. It fanned the flames and another explosion burst through the opening Eden had found. "NO!" The X-Jet landed behind the clinic in an open field. Pyro pushed the flames aside and ran in after her.

The clinic smelled of death and burning flesh. He could control the fire, but he could not control the smoke. It entered his lungs and ate away at them. He coughed and coughed. He made a path for himself, the fire parting for him. "EDEN!" he called. "EDEN!"

He could not put the fire out either because it was feeding on other things now, oxygen tanks and paper, cabinet doors and desks. What he could do was not enough. And he was afraid…he was so afraid.

Bodies were strewn all about the place, legless, armless, headless. One of them might be hers.

Then the rain came, a great torrential downpour. The water doused the flames and as the smoke lifted he saw her. God, was she dead?

"John!"

He turned. He stood between Eden and Storm. There was an opening for him to escape. He took it.

Pyro smashed through the window to his right, the glass pierced his flesh, but he ran. He ran and ran and didn't look back.

If she was taken by the X-Men alive, they would care for her, better than he could. If she was dead, there would have been nothing he could have done anyway.

But to not know…

He ran faster. There was a flame in his whole being that he could not control. And it threatened to destroy him.


	7. Chapter 7: Cobra

**Chapter 7: Cobra**

"I'm sorry."

"You're…_sorry_?" Magneto looked at him but looked at nothing at all. His whole being raged against this stupid, impulsive boy. "Do you realize…can you even understand…?"

What was he to say? What could he say?

"It was an accident."

"AN ACCIDENT!" Magneto slammed his fist down on the table.

Pyro yelled back. "Yes! An accident!"

The back of Magneto's hand met the boy's face. He felt the heat of his flesh, the anger and surprise as he struck him. He knocked Pyro to the floor. Blood flew out of his mouth.

He regretted it almost instantly. Pyro didn't move. He wiped at the blood with a clenched fist. "I said I was sorry," he hissed in pain.

* * *

He couldn't believe Magneto had just hit him. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, the man knelt down on the floor and raised him up. With his own sleeve, he mopped away Pyro's blood.

Only then did Pyro know that he had deserved the blow. He deserved more. Eden…He hung his head. "I didn't want any of this to happen."

Magneto held both of his shoulders, the cuff of his shirt burgundy-brown with Pyro's blood. "I know…I know you didn't." He guided Pyro to a chair and sat him down. He gave him a glass of water.

"You'll understand Pyro, that with Mystique captured and now Eden gone as well…" He paused and swallowed hard. "I am a bit preoccupied."

"Yeah, I understand," he said. "I really am sorry."

Magneto sat across from him and looking at him very seriously said, "You and I are all that is left of my Brotherhood."

The words hung in the air, heavy and weighted with pain. Pyro felt hopeless, despairing, angry, hateful. "I think, I think Eden will be better off with the X-Men for now though, if she's alive. We couldn't have helped her."

"You're probably right. It makes it difficult though. If she is with them, we won't have any way of knowing."

Pyro nodded.

"Do not despair," Magneto said suddenly. "The just triumph."

Words. The guy always had big words. At the moment, they meant nothing to him.

"John," Magneto began quietly, "you are full of rage. You are full of vengeance. You thirst for righteousness and glory." He paused. "You and I are the same."

Pyro stopped. He looked in the gray, shadowy eyes of the man he followed and he suddenly remembered why he followed him. "Does it mean anything?"

"Oh, yes," Magneto said. "It means everything. Our rage, our hatred, our desires will be the means by which our cause is taken into the world. The means by which we will bring others to our side and destroy those who oppose us."

Pyro nodded, feeling empowered for the first time in a long time. "What do you want me to do?"

Magneto looked directly into his eyes, a dark gaze that Pyro was not afraid to meet. "Don't abandon me," he said.

The request struck him like a knife in the heart. The thought of leaving Magneto had not occurred to him, even now as his bloodied lip swelled. "Never," he swore, "Never."

* * *

Xavier watched the girl closely. Her eyes were wide open. She never blinked. But she was not awake. Unconscious and dreaming violently. Her hands twitched every now and then, but her eyes never moved.

He raised his hands to her temples to venture a peek inside. He closed his eyes. Fire! Smoke! Screaming! She did not scream. But others did. She pointed them to an exit. They ran. She helped someone stand and they ran from her in fear of the flames. The second explosion! Its concussion knocked her to the floor and she succumbed to the blackness. _Back further…who are you…where have you come from?_

He felt a warm wetness envelop his right arm. It squeezed tight and pushed his hand away. He opened his eyes in time to see her black, forked tongue whip back into her mouth. "You don't want to go any further," she whispered hoarsely.

He wheeled around to her side. Her eyes widened. "Xavier."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"We'll keep it that way, if you don't mind."

He shrugged. "If you like."

"Where am I?"

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you where you are."

The girl smiled and as she did she revealed white fangs and sharp white teeth. "I don't want to play this game. Just point me to the exit."

"You received very serious burns and extensive damage to your lungs from smoke inhalation. You're better off here."

She lay back and sighed and the sigh turned into a cough. The coughing brought her to a sitting position. She appeared to be suffering. "So it would seem," she agreed breathlessly when the cough let up.

"What were you doing in Montreal?" Xavier asked.

"Looking for something," the girl replied.

"Did you find it?"

She shook her head. "No."

Her mind was blank and she was keeping it that way on purpose. She was thinking of anything other than what he wanted to know. He could not even discern her name.

"You can call me whatever you want. I'll answer to it," she said.

"Are you telepathic?"

She shook her head. "You're projecting. I can feel it." She tapped her temple. "I know what to listen for."

He folded his fingers together. "Well, seeing that you possess certain snake-like abilities, shall we call you Cobra, for now? Until you feel you can tell me your real name?"

"That's just fine. Not very original, but it'll do." Not a shred of malice in that comment, rather, she seemed more disappointed in his choice than irritated—as if she had expected more from him.

"Where did you learn to listen to telepathic waves?"

"That would be telling too much, Charles," she replied. "Is it alright if I call you Charles?"

"Most of the people here call me Professor Xavier."

"You're not my Professor."

He nodded in agreement. "True. Very well, you may call me Charles. Though, I would like to know how you know my name."

"Are we…at your school? Is this the Mansion? We're in New York."

He did not answer her. Her perceptions, her knowledge, were eerie and unsettling. He detected no malicious intentions, rather a kind of hope. What kind of hope, though, was unclear. That was the unsettling part.

Xavier turned as Storm entered. A noticeable change occurred in the room. A hot surge of anger and pain and hatred. It disappeared as soon as the girl realized he had detected it. "Our guest is awake," Storm smiled.

"Yes. Full of questions, but providing no answers."

Storm approached her and extended her hand. "I'm Ororo Monroe. Nice to meet you."

The girl smiled and took her hand. "Cobra," she said, looking to the Professor.

Xavier did not break eye contact. "Not her real name, of course."

Storm looked at Xavier, puzzled. _Come outside for a moment, Storm._

The door slid closed behind them as they entered the hallway. "What's going on?"

"She won't let me in. I could force her, but…"

"You don't want to," Storm nodded. "I don't blame you. She's been through a hell of a lot. Who do you think she is?"

"I really don't know. She knows my name. She knows about this place. I haven't told her anything."

"Is she telepathic?"

"No," Xavier said. "At least," he frowned, "I don't think so."

"Personally," Logan said, entering the hallway, "I think she's a spy."

"There's no way you could know that, Logan," said Xavier.

"I saw Pyro, she's probably working with him."

Storm shook her head. "Her physical condition is naturally weak. Why would Magneto enlist someone who needs more help that she can give?"

Logan shrugged. "So we would take her in, feel sorry for her, let her infiltrate the school and bring back information."

Xavier ran his fingers along the sides of his nose. "I don't know."

"I would agree with Logan," Storm said, "except that I saw Pyro too. He left her there. He didn't seem to have any affiliation to her at all."

"It's a set up."

"Enough of this," Xavier said, "don't you two have a Danger Room session to get to?"

Logan and Storm nodded. "I can cancel the class, if you want help with her," Storm suggested.

"I can teach the class on my own," Logan offered.

Xavier smirked. "I don't think so. Though, I am grateful to you for filling in for Scott. Go on. She isn't going anywhere. She knows were saving her life, that much is clear."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing a Danger Room session on my own," Logan was saying as they left the hallway and entered another. Storm's laughter echoed down the hallway, cut off by a closing door.

The door in front of him opened and the girl was there. "Are you done talking about me?" she asked.

"Yes," Xavier answered. "For now. You should get more rest. Let the medicines heal you."

She smiled sadly. "Medicines only go so far," she said. She peered closely at him. "You're exactly what I thought you would be. Exactly how I thought you'd look."

"Who are you?"

"Cobra," she answered, and walked back to the bed.


	8. Chapter 8: Beginning

**Chapter 8: Beginning**

He watched them hustle and plan, don their uniforms and disappear to the lower levels of the Mansion. He ran to the window when he heard engines sound. A jet, like something the army would keep secret and people would confuse for a UFO, lifted from underneath the basketball court and was gone in a flash of hot exhaust and wavy rushes of fierce air. He watched it go.

"I will not be left behind."

Warren opened the window and as he did, someone crawled over it. He jumped back in surprise. She caught his eyes and for a moment she seemed afraid. He only watched her. It appeared she was waiting for him to scream or call for help. Clearly she had not expected to be seen.

Tentatively, she entered his room. "Were you going…were going to follow that jet?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yes."

She bit her lower lip. "You can fly."

"Yes."

"How fast can you fly?"

"About half as fast as that jet," he answered. This girl, or woman, was looking at him so intently, so desperately. Her eyes were like green pools and her pupils were long and shaped like…black feathers. Her pupils were like _feathers_ and they bored into him and reached the core of his being. She was looking inside of him. "Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Eden and I need to go with you. Can you carry me?"

"Yes." He gave it no thought. It barely entered his mind, the fact that he did not know who she was, or where she had come from, or why she had been crawling along the wall outside his window. "Yes, I can carry you."

"And…will you?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Thank you, thank you. You're my angel."

He smiled. "I'll have to hold you in my arms. You'll have to put your arms around my neck."

She did so without hesitation and he lifted her. Again, he was surprised. She saw it. "Am I too heavy?"

Warren laughed. "No. You weigh nothing!"

He leapt out of the window. She looked down, but did not tense. She felt no fear. Instead, her light body in his arms was still and she held on so gently. "You're not afraid."

Eden looked up at him. "How could I be? I've always envied mutants who can fly! I've always wanted to do it." She gazed downward, smiling all the while, desperation replaced by curiosity and awe. She gazed at him, into his eyes. He had that peculiar feeling that she was looking inside of him again. "You're beautiful," she said.

Warren blushed. "Thank you."

They flew on for some time. An hour or more. She rested her head in the space between his shoulder and his neck. "Where are we?"

"Half way there," he said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Alright."

"What were doing outside my window?"

Eden sighed. "I was…trying to get away. I need to be there, at Alcatraz."

He frowned. "You don't want the Cure, do you?"

"No," she said bitterly. "I can't really explain it. I just," she searched for the words, "I just _have_ to see what is happening there. What about you?"

"My father," Warren answered. "I have to get him out of there."

"You're father? Is he a mutant?"

Warren shook his head. "No, he's…my father created the Cure."

A dead, vacant silence replaced all other sound. She tensed in his arms. "Oh," was all she said.

"He did it for me," Warren explained, he wanted to her to understand. "He wanted me to lead a normal life. I don't think he knew—"

"That it would start a war?"

"He couldn't have known that." His wings beat up and down and he was suddenly tired. "He didn't know."

They stopped speaking for nearly half an hour. The wind blew cold as they passed over mountain ranges and the clouds were wet and heavy. She shivered in his arms and he tried to warm her, holding her tighter. At last they broke from the clouds and the setting California sun shone down on them, and dried them.

"You're father," Eden said suddenly, "is probably a good man."

"He _is_ a good man."

She looked into his eyes again. "_You_ are a good man, Angel."

He would have told her his real name, and that he was not an angel, nor would he ever be. But he never got the chance.

The sounds of screams and explosions flooded his senses and hers. Flashes of fire and lightning, the whistle of weapons and the cries of the dying reached their ears and he pulled back. What he saw was incredible. The pictures on TV did it no justice.

Seeing the Golden Gate Bridge moved and mounted someplace else…a new bridge between the mainland and Alcatraz Island…to think that one man had done all that—Warren could not imagine such power. He was frightened. She was not.

Black smoke and ash lifted and filled the air. Eden coughed as they drew closer. He could not take her down there. It was too dangerous. He flew away from the island to the other side of the bridge. "What are you doing!"

"I have to get my father. You can see from here!"

"No! I have to be there! With him!"

Warren set her down on the bridge. "With who?"

She took his arm. She kissed his hand. She looked into his soul. "With Magneto."

"Magneto?" Warren yanked his arm back. "Then you're with them."

"Yes…I am."

Warren beat his wings in fury and the pressure threw her down onto the ground. He flew away from her, but not before her heard her call, "Thank you, my Angel!"

* * *

Blood spilled into his eyes. He ran aimlessly along the bridge, tripping over the asphalt and slamming blindly into car doors left open. His wrists burned…they _burned_! For the first time in his life he knew what _burnt_ meant. 

Pyro swiped at the blood but it flowed so freely. It was as if someone was pouring a bucket of blood over his head. The pain came and went, but the blood never stopped. He held his hand against his forehead but the blood streamed through his fingers. Dizziness…_I'm going to faint._

The bridge…how long was this goddamn bridge! Cars, doors, people screaming, running past him, trying to get away. Blood, sweat, blood. He fell to his knees. Someone called his name. Someone ran towards him. They were nothing but a green blur.

"Just kill me and get it over with."

His speech was slurred. His head ached. The person was pulling him to his feet. They walked, they stumbled, he scraped against the ground. He was dragged, he was pulled. The blood…it was in his mouth now.

Was his mouth bleeding or was it coming from his head? Was his head still bleeding or was his whole body just falling apart? And where was he being dragged to? Maybe this was death. Why was he even bothering to walk if this was death? Was he talking?

Finally, finally, finally. Lying down. Eyes closing. No…wait. Someone wiped the blood from his eyes. His mouth dropped open and the blood dripped in.

"Oh God. You're alive." Mercifully, thankfully, maybe there was a God after all—unconsciousness.

_

* * *

I am losing myself in this Hell _

_Will you come for me?_

_You who know me so well_

_or are you done with me?_

_Death tells me to come_

_and I tell him to wait._

_All that keeps me alive_

_is your love, and my hate..._

* * *

A warm cloth. A soothing wetness. 

A burn like hell!

"AH!"

"Shh…it's just alcohol. I have to disinfect it."

They were in a tent. He was lying on a mattress on the ground. Eden tended the wound on his forehead. His wrists were bound with gauze. "Where are we?"

"You told me to come here. You said it was safe."

"I don't remember."

"It's alright."

She had a needle and thread in her hand, also doused with alcohol. "I have to sew this up. Just…don't move."

"You've gotta be kidding me." The needle went in. He hissed in pain. He could feel his skin being _pulled_ together! "Jesus Chrrr—" He breathed through his teeth and held onto the sheets until his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his hands. "Ah…God…"

She never looked at him. She did not tell him to be quiet or to stop. Her hands moved deftly and it was over in five minutes. She washed his head again. The alcohol stung like a bitch.

When she was done, she sat cross legged on the ground beside him. She took his hand and held it. "You're burned," she said sadly. "Did they hit you with the Cure weapons?"

"No…it's an ice burn. Son of a bitch. Kid from Xavier's, we were fighting and he turn his whole fucking body to ice and grabbed my wrists, tore my fucking skin off. I didn't know he could do that." Pyro felt stupid, remembering that. How confident he had been, how sure. "And then he fucking hit me in the head. It felt like I was hit with a car." He swallowed. "I don't remember passing out, I only remember being on the bridge and running. What happened?"

Eden moved the hair out of her eyes. "I don't know. I saw you and I grabbed you. Do you know where Magneto is?"

He almost said "No." But then, he remembered, remembered suddenly and violently and hatefully. "Magneto?" he sneered bitterly. "Yeah, Magneto left me there. I remember, he was hit with the Cure by that Beast guy and then he took off. He knew I was alive. And he left me there."

Eden took this in and thought about it. "But…" she said slowly, "if he was running before you, how did I miss him?"

Pyro glared at her. "Did you hear what I said? He fucking left me there to die! Who cares where he is?"

"I care," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He sat up in a fluster. "You are so fucked up."

"You said that to me once before," Eden said, looking deep into eyes.

"Eden," he said, running his fingers through his hair. Why didn't she understand? "It's over, Eden! The war, Magneto, everything. Everything is over. We lost! And he's gone, his powers, everything. There's nothing left. Nobody is fighting anymore. Don't you get it?"

Eden stood and walked towards the tent's opening. She unzipped it and he watched in disbelief. "Where are you going?"

"To find him."

He got up and grabbed her arm. He remembered doing the same thing before he lost her in that fire in Montreal. She knew his thoughts and gave him a comforting smile. "You don't have protect me. Or come with me. I'm going. Now."

"No!" he said, holding tightly. "You can't."

"Pyro, I do love you."

He let go. "You….what?"

Her eyes, green and deep, focused on him. Her shoulders curved forward and she let out a sigh. She was so tired. "I love you. But, I'm going. I know what I have to do now and Magneto is the only one who can help me."

"He can't help you!" Pyro argued, desperate to keep her there. "He has no powers!"

She kissed him on the mouth and left through the tent flap.

A choice lay before him now, walked away from him now…disappeared into the forest.

He let it go.

He let _her_ go.

* * *

…**Now…**

"The Guard? Are you sure?" Eric said, staring at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I know it's them. I know it."

He shook his head, perplexed, truly baffled. The Guard. The place, the people that had taken away most of what Eden herself was, her greatest strengths destroyed and her weaknesses exploited. He remembered her stories, though she had told them only once, and only to him. Not even Toad knew what had happened to her. Not even Mystique.

"How do you know?"

"When I was at the Mansion, I was watching the news. That's how I knew where you were and why I came here. During the Broadcast they had a member of the government's Mutant Affairs Department discuss the situation, a Doctor Rhys Weir."

The name was familiar. "Weir? Who is he? I know that name."

Eden nodded. "His name was in the files from Doctor Lucas Marco's office. His associate in the United States. They were partners for a time, do you remember?"

"How did a man like that get in with the Department of Mutant Affairs?"

She shrugged. "How does anyone get into the government?"

Eric smiled grudgingly. "Indeed. What does he have to do with Toad and The Guard?"

"Do you remember Senator Duro, from Marco's files?"

"Yes. Had the Cure not come into play, he would have been our next hit."

Eden nodded. "Yes. Well, Weir works with him in the Senate, _he_ is the leader of the science branch of The Guard. He's their chief medic. He's in charge of the experiments. And there's another thing."

She paused. He waited. "What?"

"Weir is the doctor who experimented on me," she answered simply.

"How do you know that? You said you never saw his face."

"I never did," she confirmed. "But I know his voice. He _calls_ himself The Voice. His was the only voice I heard for months, in my head, outside of my head. Everywhere. All the time. I could pick him out in a crowd of thousands all screaming with my eyes closed."

"Where did you learn about his position in The Guard?"

Eden leaned back in her chair and looked pointedly at Eric. Her eyes told a tale and he knew before she said anything.

"They knew," Eric said. "Charles knew."

"They knew," Eden said coolly. "It was in a file in Xavier's desk. I couldn't take it with me, but I couldn't resist a look inside his desk. When I saw the file, I scanned it, and," she spread her hands, "there it was."

This news sat bitterly with Eric. Such knowledge—and to allow it to continue. "Charles was probably dealing with it diplomatically," Eric said derisively. "The Guard is very powerful. And they aren't a secret either. The public sees them as the path to curing cancer and AIDS. No one knows their true nature—or at least, they don't know that anyone knows."

It was true. The Guard's public face was one of scientific advancement and medical miracles. They were well on their way to curing many terminal illnesses. They studied cancers and AIDS with the kind of aggression lacking in most medical establishments. They were miracle workers, indeed.

"There was an accident, when I was there. A mutant with great powers escaped and I was able to get away in the commotion. After that, they had to change locations. I never knew where they went, but sir," she said, her voice higher, "they're here! In California, on the border between this state and Oregon! It was all in the file!"

"Eden, how do you know Toad is with them?" Eric pressed.

She looked down and pulled a piece of folded paper from her pocket. "The last the X-Men had on the Guard was a transcript of an experiment involving Weir and another mutant in his facilities. He called the mutant 'Mortimer.'" Eden's eyes were glassy with fresh tears. She did not allow them to fall.

"Then he is alive."

She took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "The transcript is dated a year and half ago yesterday." She unfolded it and smoothed it on top of the table. "It's the only thing I took with me."

Eric lifted it and read it.

**_Our volunteer Mortimer…very successful…learning much more…about the mutant genome._**

He could read no more.

"A _volunteer_?" he growled. "_Our_ volunteer?" He pushed it back down on the table. "All these blank spaces. It makes it seem like a willful act on the part of Toad. As if he asked to experimented on."

"I think that's how Weir gets away with it, sir. I don't know that anyone is aware that the mutants he's experimenting on are prisoners. And if they know, they're not saying anything." She took the paper back and held it to her chest. "We have to do something. Destroy that place. Kill The Voice. I want to sink my teeth into his neck." Her fangs glistened.

Shame overtook him and clouded his rage. "Eden, I have no power."

"It will come back," she said so confidently that he almost believe it himself. "Your power will come back."

He gave her a grim smile. "Can we wait that long, my dear? He may be dead even now."

Her eyes widened and she breathed more quickly. "I will not just sit here with this knowledge. If he's dead, then I'll kill Weir and avenge him. If he's alive, and he _is_ alive, he has to be alive!" She licked her lips and leaned forward. "How can I _not_ go!"

How could _he_ not go? But without his powers, he was nothing but an old man. Nothing but a shell of who he used to be. How could he go and die and lose any hope of recovery? How would his death help anyone, Eden, Toad, any mutant? Was it proud to think that the cause for mutant freedom would die with him? He could not be the only one willing to fight. There were others. Other leaders, like him. There must be. Mustn't there?

"Eden…I…" he started to say, heart swelling with shame, head reeling with powerlessness. Then he stopped. It rolled into his mind like a wave, and pushed aside every other doubt he had. "I…think I have an idea."

Eden eyes sparkled with hope.

"You and I are weak. We can accomplish nothing by ourselves, even with your powers in tact. We must assume that the Cure is still being used as a weapon. With that in mind, neither of us, even if my powers come back, would be safe. Unless, of course, we enlisted the help of someone who has no weakness and who cannot be stopped with such a small thing as a needle."

"Everyone has a weakness," Eden said.

"Mentally, perhaps, even emotionally," Eric agreed, "but the mutant I'm thinking of has no physical weakness to speak of and I think I know where he might be."

"Who is he?"

Eric was filled with a feeling like life itself, as if everything were coming into play again. He could smell the metal in the room more strongly than he had since Alcatraz. He could feel it shudder and quiver as if in acknowledgement of his fledging powers. He grinned.

"He's the Juggernaut, Eden."


	9. Chapter 9: Vortex

**Chapter 9: Vortex**

Tank attempted to discern the weaknesses of the mutant he was about to battle. He stepped into the ring and fans and enemies cheered alike. Juggernaut stepped in on the other side. The mat was filthy with sweat and blood.

Where had this guy come from? He wore a fucking helmet, which he refused to take off. Tank guessed that's where he'd find this guy's weakness. And he wanted to find it! He was small in comparison to the Juggernaut, whose real name no one knew, but he was a big guy standing on his own. He used to be the guy that nobody wanted to get in the ring with, the guy who remained the undefeated champion of Vortex. He did not want to lose to this seemingly unstoppable Juggernaut.

The bigger man shot him a wide smile, a set of clean white teeth mocking Tank. Juggernaut had defeated every opponent he'd faced since he'd mysteriously arrived at Vortex. He claimed he could beat anyone that opposed him. At Vortex, each mutant makes a bet on himself, which he must give up if he loses. Juggernaut had bet it all. He was tireless and he barely sweat and never bled. His confidence in his own abilities astounded everyone, but it was not misplaced. He had broken the record for fastest knockout and he had killed two people in the span of a week. Then, he had broken his own record for fastest knockout. And then, he had done it again.

Less people were turning up to challenge Juggernaut, but they all came to watch whatever poor fool did. Tank was the next and last fool. No one else was in line to challenge the Juggernaut and if Tank lost, Juggernaut would be paid a sum of five thousand three hundred and twenty one dollars, with Death Fees already deducted. In short, he would win his bet: defeating any and all that opposed him.

"Mutants, to the center of the Ring!" There were all sorts of people here for this, every conceivable kind of mutant. Weather mutants, fire mutants, mutants with animal characteristics—and all of them hushed, desperate to know which undefeated Champion would win this bout. The Ring Master raised his hands, commanding the crowds. "Ladies and Gentlemen, since there are no further contenders, this will be the final fight for the Juggernaut. His challenge has been met by many members of the Vortex. Tank is the final opponent. After tonight's fight, either Tank or Juggernaut will go home with the prize. This is your last chance, ladies and gents, place your bets!" He paused, as some latecomers hurriedly made their wagers.

Tank's upper lip beaded with sweat.

"Not nervous, eh mate?" said the Juggernaut.

Tank shook his head. "I ain't nervous. It's hot in here."

Juggernaut leaned in a little, "It's about to get a lot hotter, mate."

The Ring Master raised his hands again. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce the Juggernaut!" The crowd roared, the crowd booed, the noise was incredible. The Juggernaut did not seem to care either way. He never took his eyes from Tank. "Aaaand," drawled the Ring Master, "the undefeated Tank!" The crowd screamed again. They pounded their feet, and clapped their hands. Some of the animal-like ones roared like lions, the ones who could fly perched themselves in the high beams above the ring to get a better look, the ones who could scale the walls did so, also to get a better view.

The Ring Master lowered his voice so that only the two of them could here him. "I swear to God, you two better let me get out of this ring before you start, or I'll take it personally." His fingers morphed into long claws and his mouth glistened with smart, white fangs. "Alright?"

"Whatever," said Juggernaut.

Tank nodded.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, let the battle BEGIN!" He ducked out of the ring and Juggernaut, as was customary for him, waited for Tank to start the fight. They circled each other for some time until the crowd began to boo. "Come ON! TOO SLOW! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!"

Tank, with speed that obviously surprised Juggernaut, slipped around behind him and jumped on his back. Juggernaut went to thrust him off. Tank grabbed hold of the helmet and yanked at it.

"Oh, that's how you wanna play!" Juggernaut let himself fall back on top of Tank. Tank felt his own ribs crack under the bigger man's weight. He would not let go of the helmet, he pulled and pulled.

Juggernaut grabbed his hand and crushed his fingers. Tank roared and the helmet came loose at last and he flung it out of the ring. He got out from underneath Juggernaut and readied himself. The helmet bounced off the mat and onto the floor.

He hoped that would throw the Juggernaut, just enough to give Tank a desperately needed advantage. But it did not. No, the Juggernaut was smiling! "One thing you're gonna learn tonight, mate," he said cracking his knuckles, "DO NOT fuck with the helmet!"

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"You're too late to place bets, old man," said the guy at the door. He was pierced, tattooed, filthy looking and wore too many chains.

"I'm not here to place a bet, I'm here to see someone," Eric answered derisively. He heard the roars of the crowd inside the Vortex.

"What is this place?" Eden asked, drawing closer to him.

The doorman leered at her. "We've got a ladies night on Wednesdays. Your girl should come and try her luck. We always get big crowds when the girls fight."

Eric summoned what he could of his power and used it to wrap the man's own chains around his throat. "Is there a man called the Juggernaut here?"

The chains loosened of their own accord as Eric lost control. But the doorman did not need to know that. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his throat, "he's fighting right now. Tonight's his last fight."

"Thank you," said Eric. They entered the main floor in time to see Juggernaut throw his opponent directly into the crowd.

"That's it, ladies and gentlemen, it's over! Juggernaut is the new undefeated champion of Vortex!" cried the Ring Master. Cheers, screams, boos, cries of all sorts followed this announcement. The Juggernaut left the ring without so much as a bow and disappeared into a back room. Eric followed, holding onto Eden's hand. They pushed through the crowd of mutants until they found their way to the door.

He was there, mopping away blood from his face with a towel. The blood was not his own. He turned when he heard them and seemed surprised. "You!" he said. "I don't believe it. You made it out, eh?"

Eric smiled amicably. "I'm glad to see that you also escaped."

"Bad business mate," said the Juggernaut. "Real bad. Didn't quite work out as we expected, did it?"

"Not exactly."

The Juggernaut walked towards Magneto. "What's it all about then? Come to talk about old times? I just won myself a nice chunk a change. Buy you a pint. Oy," he looked past Magneto and down, at Eden, "who's the bird?"

The 'bird' was far from offended by this quip. She smiled knowingly, as if she was aware of something the other two were not. "This is Eden," Eric introduced her. "Eden, Juggernaut."

She extended her hand. "A pleasure."

The Juggernaut reach to take her hand, heard her voice, and stopped just short of grasping it. "Do I know you?"

Again, the same smile as she took his hand, "I'm glad to finally meet you." The Juggernaut continued to stare at her and then a kind of realization washed over his face as he maintained his grip on her hand.

"Right…" he replied vaguely.

"How did you get out of Alcatraz anyway?" Eric asked, trying to get back his attention.

The Juggernaut turned towards Eric reluctantly and let go Eden's hand. "Indestructible skin, mate. Comes in handy."

"I don't doubt it."

The Juggernaut wiped more sweat from his forehead, his eyes flitting from Magneto to Eden. "So, Mags, what brings you to Vortex? Come to try your luck in the Ring?"

"I've actually strictly come to see you," said Eric. "And if you're offering, I'll take that pint and we can talk."

The other man looked him over, trying to gauge him, figure him out. "Right, well, let me collect my winnings," he said with playful pride. "Stay here."

When he was gone, Eric turned to Eden. "You seem strangely happy. Do you know something I don't?"

She looked up at him, smiling wide enough that, though her lips were closed, the tips of her fangs poked through. "He _will_ help us," she said confidently.

"What makes you so sure?"

"He's the mutant that escaped and allowed me to escape too." She looked towards where the Juggernaut had exited. "I never thought I'd be able to thank him."

This news stunned Eric. "Are you saying that the Juggernaut was a victim of The Guard?"

Eden shrugged. "I'm wondering if that isn't the reason he has to wear that helmet. The Guard takes your weaknesses and, I don't know, makes them worse, somehow." She grinned. "In the end, really," she said, thinking about it, "The Guard was a victim of the Juggernaut."

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"Are you serious?"

The Juggernaut was on his sixth pint, but being what one would call a big man, he was only just feeling buzzed. He heard what Eric was saying and understood it. "You're absolutely serious?" he asked again.

"Absolutely," Magneto confirmed.

He swallowed. "Well." He downed it. "I'm flattered. But why do you need me? Can't you just level the place? It's no Golden Gate bridge, but it's gotta have a steel frame, eh?" He caught on quickly, knowing that Eric was hiding something from him.

"The truth, Juggernaut, is that I was struck with four vials of the Cure. My powers are quite limited, though they are coming back in small quantities."

"The Cure doesn't work," Eden chimed in. "Other mutants are also gaining back their powers."

Juggernaut leaned back into the chair. When Eden had spoken he had smiled at the sound of her voice, though, looking back at Eric, his expression grew more serious, though hardly sympathetic. "Tough break, Mags," he said ambivalently. "Don't know what you want me to do about it."

Eric let Eden speak. It was clear she wanted to. "We need you, Cain," she pleaded. His face shifted. "You're the only one who can help us. And," she continued, slowly, "The Guard is holding someone I know. Someone I…love. Please help us."

He downed the rest of his drink and pushed the empty glass away. "Get us another drink, love," he said to Eden, "I wanna talk to the boss man."

Eric waited until she had gotten to the bar and focused on Juggernaut. "So? What do you say?"

He leaned forward and looked Eric in the eyes. "I say yes."

Eric raised an eyebrow and looked doubtfully at the other man. "Just like that? No conditions?"

"None."

"May I ask why?"

The Juggernaut crossed his arms. "I'm gonna tell you this once and don't ever ask me about it again."

"Alright," Eric shrugged.

"That girl, Eden, you call her. She was in at the same time I was. And let's just say that I remember a voice coming from the other side of wall telling me not to loose it, to keep it together."

Eric nodded. "Her voice."

"That's right. When you're in that place, only one Voice you're supposed to 'ear and that's _The_ Voice. I never saw 'is face that I know of and I never saw 'ers either, until tonight, but I know that if she hadn't of been the second voice in my head, reminding me who I was, I wouldn't've gotten outta there. Understand? 'You are Cain Marko,' she always said. Reminded me of my name, who I was."

Eden returned with filled glasses. "We was just talking about you Jaida. You look right fit," said the Juggernaut.

"Jaida?" Eric repeated, frowning.

The Juggernaut pulled Eden onto his lap. "That's her real name, Mags. Ain't that right, Jaida? See, I remember you."

She smiled. "And will you help us?" she asked looking up at him.

He took a swig of beer. "Yeah, why not? I've got noffing else to do. Besides," he finished the second beer, "sounds like fun."

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The lateness of the hour combined with alcohol made Eric restless. The Juggernaut had decided to stay with them for the night. They would leave tomorrow morning for The Guard's facilities, located in a coastal town called Brookings at the base of a mountain range called the Klamath Mountains. Luckily for them, the Brotherhood had kept a car in a lot near to this apartment. It would take them some hours to get there.

The stars were covered in a haze of humidity and the air was heavy and thick. He liked to come here to think, on the roof of this paltry building. It was freer up here.

"It's not like you to keep secrets from me, Eden," he said aloud into the darkness.

She stepped out of the shadows to his left. "Secrets, sir?"

He looked wryly at her. "I never knew your name _wasn't_ Eden, Jaida."

Eden crouched down next to him. "My name _was_ Jaida, but I am the Serpent of Eden now. As you know me, that is who I am. And who I will always be."

He turned away from her and crossed his arms in front of him. A star appeared beyond the smog and was quickly disguised again. "Eden, I don't know if what we wish to accomplish tomorrow will work."

"I know."

Eric looked back at her. "My doubts do not concern you?"

Eden sat next to him. Their shoulders touched. "Of course they do. And if you think we shouldn't go, then we won't go."

"You would sacrifice this chance on my say-so?"

She looked into his eyes. "I would," she responded. "You're Magneto."

He covered his face with his hand and sighed. "My one concern in this, my dear, is you."

"If we go, I go too."

He started to protest. He had so many things to say to dissuade her. She cut him off. "Sir, I'll stay with Cain. He'll protect me. He feels he owes me something."

"He feels he owes you his life," Eric interrupted.

"In any case," she continued, "he will protect me. All I want to do is save Toad and kill the Voice. Nothing else matters. Nothing. Please say that we'll try."

Her eyes—he could not tear himself away from her eyes. The insistence, the will power. She could not survive the proposed operation—he knew it!—and yet… "If that is what you want, we'll go. We'll go."

Eden brought her face close to his and kissed him. "Thank you, sir. Thank you."

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He could feel something different. _Movement_. He could smell something different. _Outside_. His senses were dulled, but he knew that he was outside…or in a vehicle. _In a vehicle outside!_ They were moving him.

Where?

Why?

Into the deep woods, to kill you, stupid…he answered himself. Like a dog. Fucking Nazis.

It did not bother him as much as one would think impending death would bother someone. In fact, it meant so little that he felt no fear, no anticipation.

Why now though? Had he finally spilled all his secrets? Had they figured out a way to tap him at last, without his cooperation? He hoped not.

Bump. A bump in the road. He jostled uncomfortably. I bet I'm supposed to be knocked out right now. But I'm not. Somebody, hit me with another shot.

No one did. It didn't really matter though. He knew he was blind. His eyes were open, he could feel air moving over them. He blinked. He could not feel his arms or legs and he couldn't move his head. He could be wide awake and it wouldn't matter. There were people near him, he could smell them. I can still smell…

For now.

He felt his face move into a grin. "Over the river…and through the woods…"

A man's voice. "Shut up, mutant."

"To grandmother's house we go…"

"Did you hear me?"

"There's men with guns…it's lots of fun…they're gonna kill the To-oad!"

A sharp, adequate blow to his head with the butt of a gun silenced The Toad. But it did not kill him. Would they _never_ kill him?

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_I waited…_

_And I waited…_

_But you did not come…_

_You haven't found me…_

_Did you even try?_

_Am I fated _

_To be baited_

_By a promise undone?_

_It's all around me._

_Am I going to die? _

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"There's nothing here, Jaida!" The Juggernaut watched painfully as she ran around the forsaken lab, opening doors and turning over beds until she had exhausted herself. "Jaida," he called to her. "Stop."

But she did not stop. She called his name, the one she said she loved. "Toad! Toad!" She choked and the tears streamed unchecked. She wasn't breathing right.

Magneto walked over to her. His face was ashen. "Eden…he's gone. They're gone."

"No!"

He grabbed her shoulders. She was hyperventilating. She was wheezing. "You have to stop! You'll kill yourself!"

"It…was…here!" she gasped. "He…was…" Jaida slid down along the wall and Magneto followed suite, still holding her. "It said…"

He pulled her into him. Juggernaut would never have imagined him a loving man at all, but, he supposed, all men loved something, at least one thing. And there he was, a man who was considered the most dangerous terrorist of their times, embracing a woman who was weeping relentlessly into his shoulder, comforting her. Stroking her hair. What was it like, he wondered, to feel so deeply? It seemed debilitating. Something caught his eye, suddenly, and he picked it up.

He turned it over in his hands. "Oy, Mags," he called. "S'got your name on it." It was an envelope, white, crisp, with nothing written on it but 'Magneto.'

"What?" Magneto turned.

" 'Ere, look at this. Says Magneto." He handed it to him. "You expectin' something?"

"What is it?" Jaida mumbled breathlessly. Magneto opened it. There was a folded piece of paper inside of it. He unfolded it and read it. "What does it say?"

He read it over once to himself. He looked at Jaida, and read out loud. " 'You'll understand, Magneto, that as long as you remain in the company of the Juggernaut, I cannot, nor will I stay within your reach. I am longing to meet you, though. I have your man, Mortimer. I know he's yours, though he hasn't told me. I also know that you are weak. That you have no power. And that the woman, whose company you also keep, is, like you, sir, weak. My friend Cain, however, would rip us all to pieces, given the chance—"

"Damn right I would."

" 'You, however, can do very little in the way of harming me, or rescuing Mortimer. I only want to meet you, Magneto. Please do me that honor, and I will return Mortimer to you, relatively unharmed, though, I dare say, you may find him slightly altered since last you saw him. I am going to New York City. You will find me there. Or rather, I will find you. You'll recall a certain man delivering a package to your neighbor at your apartment some days ago? He works with me. I doubt you'll even remember what he looks like. I would have waited for you in California, but your decision to enlist Cain's help was unexpected and we had to leave. However, my "delivery" man will wait for you at your apartment in New York for five days. And yes, I know where that is. Mortimer told me. Granted, by telling you all this, I run the risk of never seeing you at all. You could hide someplace new. Honestly, though, sir, aren't you the least bit curious? Meet with me, I beg you. I will do you no harm.'" Magneto looked up. "It's signed 'The Voice.'"

Jaida looked shell-shocked. Her eyes were dry, but glazed over. She looked as if she had died. "Altered…?" she whispered. "Altered."

"He's alive," Magneto said.

Her eyes focused forward on nothing. She shook her head. "No he's not. He's not. He's dead. He's dead."

"You don't know that."

She did not answer. The Juggernaut spoke. "Let's get out of 'ere," he said. "Place is bringing back bad memories." Magneto rose but Jaida did not follow. He offered his hand, but she did not take it. The Juggernaut stepped past Magneto and picked Jaida up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and said nothing.

She was barely breathing. He could feel her chest moving intermittently against his in shallow, ragged breaths. Magneto kept in stride. "What's wrong with 'er?" he asked.

Magneto looked forward. "Whatever they did to her, her lungs don't work as they should. Her bones are fragile. She probably had asthma, exacerbated by the experiments she underwent. We used to have medicine for her…"

"Not anymore?"

Magneto shook his head. "I'd have to take her to a doctor to get it now. I won't do that."

They exited the laboratory and walked towards the car. "What now, boss?" asked Juggernaut.

"It seems that you and I must part company, Cain."

Juggernaut stopped mid-step. "Are you taking this guy seriously?"

"I am."

"You're off your 'ead mate, I know this guy. 'e's not on the level. I know it."

Magneto unlocked the car. "What would you suggest, Cain? If I don't go, she will most assuredly go on her own. I have _nothing_ left Cain," he said suddenly, sounding old. "Nothing left to lose, but her."

Juggernaut placed Jaida carefully in the backseat of the car. She curled up like a cat and stared straight ahead. "Listen Mags, did you get a good look at the audience at Vortex?"

"What?"

"Most of them there was the people with you at Alcatraz. And they are all itching for anover fight. Most of them's got their powers back, full. Let's go get anover army together and tear the city apart. I'd like noffing better."

Magneto looked down at the ground and then up. He put his fingers together and stretched them. "Would they follow me?"

"I'm following you."

The man's mind worked. He could almost see the plots and plans flit like shadows over his face. Juggernaut waited, and he even almost hoped. Magneto released his fingers and opened the driver's door. "Get in Cain. Let's go start another war."


	10. Chapter 10: Burn

**Chapter 10: Burn**

The pale, thin, white-haired boy stepped up to him with his arms crossed. He wore a skin-tight blue shirt that accentuated his chest and arms and a pair of fitted jeans, torn at the knee. He smirked and his lips were blood red against his snow-white skin.

"You're Magneto?" he said doubtfully. He spoke very fast.

Eric nodded. "I am."

The boy raised his eyebrows and looked him up and down. He smirked again. "I'm Pietro. Quicksilver. Nice speech you gave. Really convincing."

"And what do you do, Pietro, Quicksilver?" Eric asked.

The boy disappeared and reappeared. His arms still crossed, his lips still smirking.

"You can teleport?" Eric said.

Quicksilver laughed. "I can run. Here," he said, handing Eric a piece of paper. "It's the sign on the front door. Just grabbed it."

It was the sign. Eric remembered it. **'Mutants Only. Humans Get the Fuck Out.'** "So you can run." Eric crumpled up the paper and threw it behind him into the Ring. "And?"

Quicksilver's smirk almost disappeared. Then he sensed the challenge. "And I can run as fast as you want, wherever you want and not get tired. I'm strong. I'm the best," he raised his head slightyly and his ellavated his chest.

Eric smiled to himself. There was something likeable about this arrogant prat. He turned to Eden. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "He's the best," she said nonchalantly.

Quicksilver turned to her. "I _am_ the best," he repeated defensively. "And what are you? What do you do? Shed skin?"

Her tongue was around his throat in a second and her teeth were bared. "I'm pretty fast myself," she grinned, the venom pumping. "We'll be quite a team."

He was out of her grip in a second. He rubbed his neck, observed with brief disgust the saliva she'd left behind. "_Yeah_. So," he turned back to Eric, "am I in, or what? You need a guy like me? You must need a guy like me."

Eric nodded. "I need a guy like you," he affirmed.

"And what about me? You need a guy like me?" Eric's insides froze. Was it possible? He braced himself for the worst.

He looked to where the voice had come from. "Pyro," he said quietly. "Pyro," he smiled and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "You're alive."

Pyro shrugged him off. "Yeah, no thanks to you," he spat. He grabbed Eric's wrists and there was fire in his hands. He held Eric's wrists with the fire swirling around like hand cuffs. Eric wanted to scream, but he held back. He hissed through his teeth as the pain shot through him. Juggernaut moved to shove Pyro out of the way, but Eric shook his head. "No! No, I deserve this," he managed to say. He looked Pyro in the eyes. "Go ahead, son, tear my flesh off. You owe me that much."

They locked eyes for a time and Eric thought he might actually do it, but the boy let go and fell to his knees. Eric clamped back his own hands, the skin was melted and red-raw. He breathed past the pain in sharp intakes.

"You son of bitch…you son of a bitch," Pyro wept. "You left me to die!" His hands flew to cover his face and hide the tears streaming down it. "You son of a bitch…" he said through his hands.

Eden took Eric's hands before he knew what she was doing and let her teeth penetrate the backs of them near the larger vein. The venom was enough to numb the pain without effecting him. He looked at Eden and at Pyro. "Take him to the car. Give him something to eat. He's a mess."

Pyro resisted Eden's gentle touch. The Juggernaut was less kind. He grabbed Pyro's collar and hoisted him towards the door.

"Guy's got issues."

Quicksilver was tapping his foot, leaning against the base of the ring. He grinned. "Really should take care of those burns. Could get infected."

Eric glared at him. "I'll take that under advisement." The boy continued to stare and his face changed rapidly as he did so. Amusement, concern, amusement again, confusion—all happened in quick succession as if his thoughts and feelings moved as fast as he did.

"Quicksilver," Eric began, looking down at his wrists, "how fast do you think you could get to New York City?"

"Three hours…went there a week ago, see the sites," he answered immediately. "Bored." He shrugged.

Eric nodded, smiling slightly. Quicksilver raised a white eyebrow. "Well, then I have a job for you."

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Pyro woke up in the back of a car with a pain in his head like he'd been hit with a tree. At first, he could remember nothing—where he was, why he was where he was, or what had happened to him. The sun was glaring in through the window. He raised his hand to block the light. It made his head swoon. He noticed a large neon sign just above the bottom of the window. It read 'VORTEX.'

He flopped back onto the seat. "Oh fuck," he mumbled to no one, as he remembered everything. Struggling with Juggernaut as he was lifted bodily out of Vortex…a solid slam to the back of his head…darkness.

"You awake?"

Eden.

She poked her head in through the window facing him. He sat up and opened the car door on the opposite side. He was dizzy. She followed him. The effort with which he massaged the back of his head proved futile.

"Pyro," she called to him.

He walked on. "What?"

She caught up with him and grabbed his arm. "Stop. Where are you going?"

Pyro shrugged her off, as he had done Magneto. "Get away from me."

She let him walk on some distance before she said, "You don't have anywhere to go!"

He stopped dead. He leant his head back and stared into the silver blue achingly bright sky. And he knew she was right. He kept his eyes on the sky but saw little of its beauty. He felt only the weight of his shame and the pain in his skull. "I came here to kill him," he called back to her. "And I couldn't do it."

"That isn't why you came." Eden stepped up just behind him. "You belong here, Pyro, with us. _We_ are your family, your home."

He sighed and looking painfully over his shoulder at her. Her face was sincere, her eyes, though, were unreadable as always. He wanted her so much just then.

But she belonged to Magneto…would do anything for Magneto and he knew that and was more sure of it than he had ever been. "I guess you can't choose your relatives, huh?"

She smiled pityingly. He hated her pity. "I guess not," she replied gently. She looked down at the ground and then back at him. She put her fingers on his arm lightly, but insistently. "Come on," she urged, "come home." She extended her hand. He was reminded, almost unbearably, of the first time they had met…she had offered her hand to him then, to give him a tour of the Lair. That memory was as fresh and glaring as if it were happening at that moment.

And has he had done then, he did now. He took that hand and followed her wherever she led.

What else could he do?

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"Will he stand with us?"

Eden finished bandaging his wrists and looked up at Eric, her eyes wide and innocent and deadly. "He _is_ with us."

Eric crossed his arms and leaned against the car looking up at the hazy, glowing sky. The world was still and waiting for something to happen…waiting in anxiety and anticipation. He felt the world and its hatred and its fear. And he hated it and feared it as it hated and feared him. Their laws, their promises, Hank McCoy as ambassador to the United Nation—what did any of it mean? Nothing!

The car shook and rose off the ground. He lost his balance and nearly fell. He caught himself and whipped around as the car thumped back onto the ground. "Did I—?"

Eden stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Yeah…you did." She grinned excitedly. "It's back!"

He focused all of his energy on the car and it shook. It did not rise. He let go. "No…that was an accident."

"No! It wasn't! What were you thinking? What were you feeling? Just then…when the car rose up off the ground?"

Eric looked wryly at her. "I was thinking about how much I hate the world."

Without warning, Eden rushed at him and threw her arms around him. He felt her breathing against his chest, the rise and fall of her breasts against him. She held him tight and then pulled back, holding onto his arms with a firm grip. "You _are_ Magneto," she said.

He lifted his left hand and took her hand in his. "Juggernaut told me you would remind him of his name while you were both prisoners of the Guard to keep him from going insane. Is that what you're doing now?"

"Is it helping?"

Eric brought her close to him and kissed her forehead. "Go and get some sleep. Try and find some place comfortable in there."

"I'll sleep in the car, if nothing else."

"Stay with Juggernaut, he'll keep you safe."

She nodded and walked towards the seedy entrance to Vortex. She turned. "I love you. You know that," she said.

Eric looked at her and then away from her. She did not wait for a reply, but went inside, disappearing into the haze of smoke and darkness and sounds and voices. He turned back to the night and leaned against the car, closed his eyes. "If you were waiting for her to leave, she's gone," he said.

He heard Pyro's step behind him. The boy walked hesitantly forward and made himself visible to Eric. "Why?" was all he said.

Eric stared at him. He was glad that this boy was alive. He was glad that he had come back to him. He seemed relatively unharmed, except for some bandages on his wrists and stitching in his forehead, and he was glad of that to. "Pyro," he began cautiously, "you must believe me when I say this—"

"I don't believe anything you say," Pyro interjected disdainfully. Hatred lined his every word, his every syllable.

"John, please," Eric raised his hands in a kind of surrender. "I am sorry that I left you behind, but there would have been nothing I could have done to save you had I stayed. You were conscious, you were moving, I knew you would get away. As for myself," he shrugged, palms out and up, "I am nothing. And at the time, I was even less. I ran for my life."

Pyro shook his head slowly and then more determinedly. "You're full of shit," he responded.

"Then why have you come back?"

"I'm not here for _you_!" he cried. "I didn't come back for _you_! I came back for _her_. To help _her_. To save her from you! She worships you! And you," he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "you just let her! And you're nothing! You just an old man with a fucking power complex!"

It was his dignity now being challenged. His purpose and reason and strength. Pyro wasn't all wrong—but he wasn't all right, either. "You have no right to speak of her or myself in that way, Pyro," his voice was icy. This game was over. "No right at all." He stepped closer to the boy who was clearly intimated by this power-hungry "old man." "And what are you, hm? A boy. Full of rage, full of potential. You control nature's greatest power—fire! And yet there you were, losing to a preppy student who can make ice with his hands, whose only real function should be to cool people's drinks at a cocktail party…your arrogance disgusts me." Pyro made for to speak, but Eric stopped him. "And as for Eden, she would kill you before she let anything happen to me. That kind of loyalty is ever lasting. She was willing to sacrifice her chance of retrieving the man she loves on my say so. She does this of her own choosing. You know _nothing_ about her!" He let these words stand and sink into Pyro's mind. "Nothing," he repeated. "And I love her, Pyro, more than you do. And you know nothing of that. You could not possibly understand."

Pyro was barely breathing. He was, with all his strength and power, attempting to control the fires that raged within him. It was evident in his face, in his eyes, which reddened and twitched, in his chest as it moved up and down quick with the anger that swelled inside him. He broke eye contact with Eric and spoke barely above a whisper. "You're right. I don't understand…I don't want to. But keep your eyes open, don't ever let your guard down, because one day, one day…I'm going to kill you."

"Idle threats do not fear create, my boy," Eric murmured. "Keep trying though, one day you may actually be able to go through with one."

His face darkened like a cloud. "There's only one that matters."

"Glow-boy giving you trouble, Magneto?"

Eric leaned away from Pyro and saw Cain behind him. "No. Everything is fine," he looked back at the boy and spoke so that only Pyro could hear him, "for now."

Pyro nodded slowly and walked away, the darkness making him all but invisible.

"He's gonna be trouble though, isn' he?" Juggernaut crossed his arms, watching Pyro as he walked away.

Would he be? Or were his feelings for Eden deep enough to keep him in check? He had always been angry and Eric had always encouraged, even fueled, that anger. It was to his advantage, as well as to Pyro's. Anger fed his power, made him stronger. But arrogance stifled it. There was such a thin line between the two. Would he be trouble? Eric shrugged. "Fire is always unpredictable," he replied, "Do keep an eye on him for me, will you?"

Juggernaut nodded. "With pleasure."

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"She's coming, you know," the Voice murmured placidly. "The one you've been waiting for. And another—the one I've been waiting for."

Toad's eyes were open and his head ached. He was awake and conscious. He saw nothing but brown-black darkness. Faint new smells surrounded him. He felt a sudden breeze, cool and fast, slip past him and he looked in its direction instinctually and, of course, uselessly. A new smell came with that breeze but it was gone in a moment.

"Who?" he asked faintly.

"She is. The one in your mind. The one you love, Mortimer. She's coming."

Toad swallowed. He could not remember the last time he had eaten. He was not hungry, but, God, he was thirsty. "Do…" his voice was scraping for want of liquid, "do tell her…that I say hello…won't you?"

The Voice chuckled to himself. Chuckled…it was the only appropriate word. "Mortimer, I'm not kidding around, it's true. She is coming. And so is he."

Toad's eyes were hot and tired and he closed them. "That's really great," he murmured, "could I get a drink?"

"Do you hate me, Mortimer?" the Voice asked.

"Yeah," Toad answered. "Can I get a drink?"

"I don't hate you. I find you fascinating."

"Fantastic, really. Can I get a sodding drink?"

The Voice stepped closer to him. He could feel it. "Why, Mortimer?"

"Why what?"

The Voice sounded too close. "Why do you hate me?"

Oh, this was a great game. Bloody brilliant. Man's a fucking genius. His mind swirled. If he weren't tied to this fucking bed, the things he would do to this freak! He recalled with pleasure the feeling of taking life, of bones breaking under his weight and he smiled. And all too suddenly, he was keenly and forcibly aware of the restraints on his arms and legs, the strong, immovable, unbreakable—and God knows, he tried—restraints. "Give me a drink," he hissed, his heart thudding like a ticking bomb. And then he felt the Voice touch him—touch his arm. He went to grab the Voice impulsively with his tongue, but could not extend it. In a whirl of violent thoughtlessness, he reached with his restrained hands to take hold of the Voice and felt the pull of chain and leather refusing to allow him to move as he would choose.

He screamed and screamed and pulled and pulled at the restraints until he drew blood. He smelt his own blood…and he did not care. His whole body shook with anger and hatred as he had never felt before. If he could only break them, if he could only get one hand free—just one! "AAAHHH!" With one foot he could kick, with one hand he could kill!

He did not know how long he fought. But, he became suddenly exhausted. He was panting and sweating and bleeding and he did not care. But he had to stop. His body demanded it.

Toad lay there, sweaty and bloody and barely breathing. And the only words that he could utter were the most desperate of his life. The only words he thought, the only plea he had left…

"Oh God…"

A light footstep approached him and a quiet, calm voice answered him. "There's no God here, Mortimer." He paused and Toad tried to breathe. "Now," continued the Voice, "would you like a drink? You look thirsty."

Toad could not tell if it was sweat or tears that rolled down his face, over and under his eyes…his blind eyes. "Yes," he whispered weakly.

Weak. I _am_ weak.

And, oh God, they were tears.

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Within four days, the speed demon returned. Quicksilver looked proud and self-aggrandizing. He tapped his foot impatiently waiting for Magneto to finish talking to whoever she was…the green girl with the teeth.

"Hey, I'm back," he said. Magneto turned and faced him.

"Quicksilver, I'm glad to see you. Let's talk."

The older man led Quicksilver away from the other mutants so that he could speak to him alone. Quicksilver was more than eager to tell all and everything that he had seen and done.

"So, ok, I went to that address you gave me and that guy was there, the guy that said he was going to wait for you. I watched the apartment for four days and just like you said he would he left the apartment and I followed him. Hell, I followed him all over town, like he knew, or maybe he didn't know, maybe he only thought, he was being followed. Whatever. Anyway, he finally went into this building, it's like this abandoned warehouse, in Brooklyn, nothing there, really, just the warehouse and burnt out apartments and stuff and a few cats and it didn't really look like anything but," he paused for emphasis and Magneto waited, anxious to hear more, "but," he said again, "I went in and out real fast and, holy hell, there's a lot of shit in there. Mutants in little glass rooms with tubes and shit in them and wires and all sorts of crap and guys in lab coats. There was this one guy, a green guy, on a table in the middle of the room, and this lab guy was talking to him. I think he knows your coming. Or at least he thought you were. Maybe he doesn't know. I don't know."

He stopped and watched Magneto's face change and change again, he could see every alteration, the thoughts and feelings passed over his face in a way that only Quicksilver could see. "What did the man in the lab coat say?"

Quicksilver remembered it verbatim. "The only thing I had time to hear was, 'She's coming you know. The one you're waiting for. And another—the one I'm waiting for.' And then I went back outside. I was only in there for like a second."

The man nodded. He mulled the information over and stayed perfectly still while doing so. "Did anyone see you?"

"No," Quicksilver was almost defensive, "I'm too fast. They might've felt a breeze or something. But if they did, no one reacted. Except the green guy. I think he felt me go by. He looked my way. I almost thought he saw me but he couldn't have."

Magneto looked up. "Why not?"

"Dude's blind," Quicksilver replied matter-of-factly. "His eyes were all like white and shit, he can't see."

This news startled Magneto, but only for the briefest of brief moments. No one, other than Quicksilver, could ever have detected it. "What?" Quicksilver asked. "You know him?"

"I do," Magneto rumbled. "Yes."

"Sorry," he said quickly. His mood changed from excited to mellow to excited. "So, how'd I do?"

Magneto seemed lost in thought. He heard Quicksilver but did not reply for a few moments. Then, he looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. "You did very well," he said, "very well indeed." He looked away. Quicksilver followed his gaze to the green girl with the teeth and then Magneto spoke again. "Would you be able to lead us back to that place?"

"Oh yeah, no prob."

Magneto nodded, thinking. "Good. We'll leave tomorrow." The man put his hand on Quicksilver's shoulder. He felt a shiver of pride. "Well done," he said and let go and walked away.

"Well done," Quicksilver repeated to himself, laughing, slightly giddy. Slightly hungry…very hungry. He wondered, was anything open this late?

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_Are you there?_

_Can you hear me?_

_You're everywhere._

_But are you near me?_

_God is not there_

_and the saints cannot hear me._

_They keep me alive_

_and I'll try_

_but I'll die…_

…_without you near me._


	11. Chapter 11: Remember

Author's note: If you read Chapter 9 before the date of August 15th, please re-read the end of that chapter, as some important information was deleted during the uploading process and has since been revised.

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**Chapter 11: Remember**

_I cannot remember your face_

_or the place_

_where we first met_

_and I will always regret_

_I never said what felt_

_and now after what Fate has dealt _

_me, you will never know_

_and I will go_

_and you will stay_

_and I can never ever say_

_I loved you._

For what it was worth, Toad answered the questions the Voice posed to him. They were simple enough and hardly intrusive. He had resisted until now, the answers forced out of him by various serums and electrical impulses, torture, things of that nature. Now, it mattered so little. The questions, the answers, the Voice, all of it.

"What do you see?"

Toad blinked. "Nothing."

"I'm shining a light in your eyes, can you feel it?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Good," said the Voice. "Mortimer, you seem upset."

"I can't bloody see," he answered numbly. "You'd be upset too."

He heard the Voice move some things here and other things there. It didn't matter. He didn't care. "It's not like your eyesight was twenty-twenty to begin with, you know. I just finished the job that nature neglected."

"You've blinded me."

"I suppose I have."

Toad breathed shallowly. "How about that," he remarked carelessly. He felt dead. Maybe he was. Maybe death wasn't anything more than being in one moment, in one horrible moment, for the rest of your life. Maybe his time with the Voice was actually Hell. If it wasn't, he did not want to think about what Hell might be.

"Are you the Devil, Voice?" he asked, not really caring to know the answer.

The Voice laughed. "Am I what? The Devil?" he sounded like he might be shaking his head, "you mean like Satan? Like," he laughed again, "like Beelzebub?"

"I guess that's what I mean."

The Voice moved around and adjusted machines, he supposed, and instruments. "No, I'm not the Devil, Mortimer. I am much more than that."

Toad listened to nothing and felt less. He wanted to sleep. At least sleeping was unawareness, at least there he could be some place else, someone else. At least there he could pretend to see her. To be who he was…whoever that was.

He could not remember.

He tensed. Could not remember…?

I am…I am what? Who? Who was he? Who had he been? Panic. What was his last name? His real name? Not Mortimer…no, Mortimer was a name that meant nothing to him…a name his parents hadn't even given him…a name assigned to him…as if being green weren't enough, he had to be given a weird name too. I am not Mortimer…I am…who am I? He could not remember…!

Have to! Have to remember!

With all his will, with all his being, with whatever was left of his strength, he tried to summon up himself! _Could not remember?_ _NEED_ TO REMEMBER!

"I am…" he barely whispered.

"Hmm? What?" the Voice asked.

His mouth resisted, his body held him back, but he had to, he needed to…it was all he had left! His one and only weapon!

"I am… _the Toad_," he said.

"What?"

"I AM THE TOAD!" he cried. "I AM THE TOAD!"

The Voice's voice seemed to shake, almost quiver. "Be quiet, Mortimer!"

It was pain beyond pain…painless agony! His mind wanted to lapse into nothingness…darkness…like his eyes…just forget and lie in the darkness!

"NO!" he pulled at the restraints. "I AM THE TOAD! I AM THE TOAD! I AM! I AM! I AM THE TOAD!"

"Shut up!" the Voice shouted over him! "Shut up!"

He said it, shouted it, screamed it over and over and over again.

He was sure they would put a stop to it, sure they would inject him with something, or hit him until he lost consciousness. Instead, Toad heard something, another voice, not like the Voice's voice at all. It stopped him dead. This one was female…it was the first voice he had heard beside's the Voice's in an eternity.

"Doctor Weir," she said, in a frightened tone.

He was angry. "What are you doing?" the Voice yelled.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but, there's a man outside, an older man. He's alone and he's calling your name…"

The Voice, the one the woman called 'Doctor Weir', seemed puzzled, seemed thoughtful. Then, he seemed excited. "Bring him in," he said with sudden enthusiasm.

"Sir?" she asked, confused.

"Do it! If it's not him, we'll just kill whoever it is…come on! I've been waiting for this my entire life!"

She paused before answering. "Yes sir," she acquiesced at last.

The Voice dropped something and picked it up. He was…nervous? Excited. Anticipating something.

"Weir," Toad said, using the newly discovered name, "what's got your knickers in a twist?" A breeze brushed him.

"He's here. I'll meet him at last. I'm terribly excited, Mortimer."

Toad looked in his general direction, the breeze hitting his face, seeing nothing but blackness. "Who is it?"

The Voice shifted and moved. "You know who it is. You've always known."

His heart jumped and his stomach felt like he was falling. It was terrifying and wonderful. His eyes flooded, he could almost feel the tears. "Magneto?" he asked, trembling, a wash of cool air passing near him.

"Yes, Toad," Magneto answered. "I'm here."

Was there a word in any language to describe what he felt at the sound, at the tremor, at the power of that voice? Was there any feeling that could sum up the relief, the joy? There wasn't. There simply was not. He took several, hyperventilated breaths before uttering a string of prayers and expletives, all mixed together in an unrelated strand. "Oh! Jesus… Christ. God. Dammit. Fucking. Hell! Jesus! God! Holy fuck!" he laughed and let himself cry and stretched his head backwards, as if he could see Magneto, just to see him, just once, come on eyes! Just once, please! The tears spilled over down his forehead. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cried, for everything, for his weakness, for his powerlessness, for his blindness, and even now, for his tears. "I'm sorry!" He wanted his hands, to reach out, to beg Magneto for pardon, he pulled at the restraints and opened the old wounds, not yet healed. "Please, I'm sorry!"

"Anita," said the Voice, "put him in his room."

Toad went wild. "No!" he shouted as he felt the bed move, the wheels gliding across the floor. "NO!" The bed stopped and the door slid closed and the walls blocked all other sound, leaving only his own pleas and screams to listen to.

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It was early. Too early. Logan heard the doorbell and hated his extra-sensitive hearing. He rolled out of bed, grunting and despising whoever was at the door, put on a pair of pants and a T-shirt. He left his room, ruffling his hair, trying to wake himself up. Yawning and putting on a deliberate frown, he opened the door.

Within a millisecond he had extended his claws, grabbed Pyro, closed the door and shoved him against it. "What the hell!" he growled.

Pyro smiled, despite the glistening metal hovering far too close to his throat. "Hi Logan," he said.

"I should kill you right now!" he snarled, squeezing harder on the younger man's throat.

The smile, the smirk, the arrogance disappeared. Pyro's face became a mask of despair and apathy. "Why don't you Logan?" he asked, quietly, sincerely. It was almost a plea.

Logan looked deep into Pyro's eyes, breathing hard. Pyro never let his gaze fall. He let him go and the boy slid down against the door and hit the ground with a good _thud_.

He rubbed his throat where Logan had choked him. He looked up at him, smiling again. "So, how's it been?"

"Get up!" he demanded.

Pyro stood without argument. They were nearly the same height, Logan standing slightly taller.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Pyro sighed, his hand still on his own throat. "I've got something you might want. Some information."

Logan scoffed. "Information? On what?"

Pyro stood there, looking around him. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, shrugged and lifted his head, face to face with the Wolverine. "Magneto," he answered, simply.

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"Magneto." Weir said the name with relish. He stepped closer to Eric, eyeing him like a work of art. He shook his head in disbelief. "I cannot begin to tell you—"

Eric stopped him. "Give me Mortimer, as you said you would. I've come to meet you, as you asked."

"Oh no, Magneto, no," said Weir. "I asked you to come over a week ago. Clearly, you sent someone to follow my delivery man and you came here. And you're late, so my proposal no longer stands. What? Have you some people outside to take this place by storm?"

Eric shook his head. "Who would fight for a powerless old man? I followed him myself."

"Liar," Weir mocked. "Liar…how could you have?"

Eric shrugged. "Believe what you will."

Weir smiled. "I only believe what's true, Magneto."

"As do I."

Weir stepped out of the circle of monitors and equipment and wires. "But ours are different truths, are they not?"

Eric did not respond. He watched this man, how he moved and tried to gauge him. He was older, graying, but tall and fit. Not unlike himself. Eric considered himself in good shape for a man of his age and he assumed Weir was of the same caliber. He was fifty-five, perhaps, sixty? His face was European, and though he had no discernable accent, his speech was meticulous and refined, of a kind only found in those who speak English as a second language.

He was taller than Eric and had a certain disciplined grace in his movements, and an easy timbre in his voice, hypnotic in a way, calm. He wore a long, white lab coat, more for show, it seemed, than practicality, and he stood straight-backed, in a military-like fashion. All around him were screens, and tables and syringes; stethoscopes, blades and electrics. And there was a certain, inexorable confidence in the sound of his voice, in each step he took. He knew who he was, why he was, and that what he was doing was right in all ways. No questions, no doubts.

A man after his own heart.

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"John, why should we believe you?" Storm was saying.

"It's Pyro, dumbfuck, and I'm not saying you should," Pyro answered. "But what I am saying is true…it's probably happening now, and if you want Magneto, now is the time. He's got nothing."

Logan stepped forward. "Why are you doing this? How do we know this isn't a trick?"

Pyro crossed his arms. Bobby and Rogue watched him closely and he winked at them. "You don't," he replied, avoiding the first question. "But you're X-Men…you can handle anything."

"You were an X-Man too," Bobby interjected, "what are you now?"

Pyro stood up. "Free," he said. He looked all around at them. "Look, you don't have to do anything. I'm not doing you any special favors. I've got my own agenda. You do what you want."

He started to walk away but Logan stopped him, putting his hand out against his chest to prevent him from walking forward. "Where exactly is this lab? And no bullshit."

Pyro gave him a satisfied half-grin. "Now we're talking," he said and sat down again.

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They didn't know what to do with him, so they had left him in that room with Rogue, who was told to watch him. They had only stepped outside, so she was in no real danger. Besides, they had taken away his lighters.

Pyro allowed himself the liberty of ogling her. She was pretty hot, still. He could only imagine how it had been for Bobby, sleeping with her finally, after she'd gotten the Cure…all that pent-up sexual frustration. He smiled thinking of it.

"What're you smirking at?"

He leant back, folding his arms. "You haven't told him yet, have you?"

She flinched. "Told who what?"

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Told Iceman that your powers are coming back."

Rogue tensed. "They're not comin' back."

"Yeah," he nodded, sneering, "sure. Of course they're not."

She flipped her hair out of her eyes. "And even if they were, Bobby wouldn't care."

"Oh no?" Pyro laughed. "I don't know, Rogue. Once you've tasted the forbidden fruit…well, you know the rest."

"First of all, it's Marie, _dumbfuck_," she retorted, "and second, you don't know anything about me and Bobby."

He liked her angry. He liked her mad. "Personally, _Rogue_," he began in a kind of whisper, "I don't know what his problem was with your powers in the first place. I can think of a lot of interesting ways to fuck without actually coming into skin-to-skin contact."

She walked up to him and slapped him hard across the face. And he felt it…felt that…_sucking_…like his life was being torn out of him. He had felt it once before. It was painful, but not unbearable, and he was not so shocked by it this time. He was able to look her in the face as she stared in horror at him, as she took the life and powers from his body, the thoughts from his mind, the feelings from his heart. She yanked her hand back, holding it to herself, massaging it, as if by doing so she could somehow force her powers to go back where they had come from.

He slumped forward shakily as she let go. "Shit," he whispered, gathering himself. He took a deep, ragged breath. "Rogue, there's so much…so much you could do." He stood up and walked over to her. He raised his hands and touched her face. Her power had disappeared again. "When it comes back, use it. You could be the most powerful mutant in the entire world."

She shoved him away. "And do what? Join Magneto, like you?"

He shook his head. "I'm not with Magneto. I don't fight for anyone anymore. I'm Pyro," he stated. "And you could truly be Rogue."

She lifted her eyes and met his. They stared at each other for some time. She seemed about the speak, when the door opened and the others walked in. He never let her look away, even as he moved back to the couch and sat down at Logan's command. Bobby saw it and reached for Rogue's hand, to hold it, to comfort her. She pulled away instinctively and left the room in tears.

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"Doctor Weir, hand him over."

Weir grinned. "Magneto, we are both grown men, _seasoned_ men, even. I don't have to do anything you say, because there is nothing you can do that will make me. You know that, and I know that. However, I can make you do whatever I want, because I am more powerful than you are." He paused, inhaling rapturously. "I have been waiting for this day."

"Why?" Eric pressed. "Why have you been waiting? What is it you want?"

"Just you."

"Well, I'm here. Now what?"

Weir coupled his fingers. "Magneto, I am a realistic man. And I know that the only reality that is ever constant is war. I have always known that, been taught that, as I believe you have." He paused. "So, I have spent my entire life in the study of the enemy. I have discovered its weaknesses, and its strengths. I have even been able to infiltrate its most staunch ally. Is it not a wonder that I should be a key member in the Department for Mutant Affairs?" He stopped again, seeming almost giddy. "Magneto, you don't understand what an influence you have been to me, how I've longed to stand in your presence…you who allowed me to discover my purpose in life. It's all come full circle."

Eric's insides fluttered and warmed. "How have I allowed you to discover your life's purpose?" he asked with loathing.

"By simply being!" said the man. "You don't understand, yet, do you?"

"I'm afraid you've lost me," Eric sneered.

"I suppose that's true," said Weir, "well, allow me to explain."

"Don't bother," Eric answered.

Juggernaut plowed through the wall as a mutant called Hawk soared in through the newly made opening. Several dozen mutants entered different ways. Once they had, they began to tear the place apart. Weir stood dumbfounded, but not entirely surprised.

"I knew they would follow you, Magneto!" he yelled over the din. "But I have followers too!"

At least one hundred men with several hundred cure weapons and guns entered the fray. They fired in all directions. Mutants that could fly lifted them and smashed them into walls or let them go mid air. Some mutants were struck, others were injured by the more primitive guns, some were killed. He looked to Juggernaut, Eden was clinging to his back, hiding from the others. He would make sure she would not be a target.

It seemed that the battle swarmed all around him, and that Weir and Eric were in the eye of the storm, the tornado's funnel. Nothing touched them.

Weir looked at the battle with a passive gaze, as if from the inside of a snow globe. "Ah, this is how we would have it, is it not, Magneto?"


	12. Chapter 12: Power

**Chapter 12: Power**

Quicksilver sped back outside to where they were all waiting. Juggernaut stepped up to him. "What's goin' on?"

"Magneto's talking to the head lab guy right now. There's a kind of…you can't really see it unless you move fast…but it's like this bubble around where they are. I don't know if it's a force field or what, but I couldn't get inside it. I got close to them, but I wouldn't have been able to touch them."

"And the rest of the lab?"

Quicksilver grinned deviously. "Ripe for the taking. A couple nurses, a few doctors…guy's with guns. Lots of them. Military men. This guy is way in with the government."

"Bloody fascists," said Juggernaut. "They got Cure weapons?"

Quicksilver shook his head. "Don't know. Couldn't tell."

"Is there any opening at all in the force field?" Eden asked.

"Don't think so. If there was, couldn't see it. We'll have to get him out of it, if you want to kill him."

Eden nodded.

Juggernaut cracked his knuckles. "Well, we're not gonna find out sittin' around here. Jaida, on my back. Let's go."

He knelt on one knee so that Eden, whom Quicksilver guessed was weaker than the rest of them, could get onto his back. He would serve as her shield.

Juggernaut turned to the others. "Let's kill some humans!" his voice boomed. A cheer went up and Juggernaut ran ahead of them and plowed through the wall.

Quicksilver slipped past him through the opening. Almost out of nowhere, a group of camouflage-clad humans with very large guns slipped in after them. They fired and took a few of the less prepared ones out. One, two, three. They could never hit Quicksilver, even if they could see him. He knocked a few of them out, and took their weapons and put them where they would no longer be accessible. They had Cure weapons, he got rid of those, but kept the guns, which proved useful later on.

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"You alright?" Juggernaut called over his shoulder to Jaida. She had some plaster dust in her black hair, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" she yelled back.

"Hold on!" he called, "here comes the bloody cavalry!"

He knocked men and women out of his way as they fired at him, the bullets ricocheting off of his skin. Jaida clung tighter to his back, burying her head between his shoulder blades.

He heard the strangest sound, just then, like a whistle, or a hiss. Something, something very larger, slammed directly into his helmet. He heard it crack, just along his ear and split. Another, less strong blast came from the same direction and he fell to his knees. He hit the ground hard, and he was…crying out in pain? He was in _pain_?

Bloody fucking hell, he was!

Instinctively, he reached for the helmet. He felt the split and he felt the blood. _His_ blood. "Fucking hell!" he screamed.

So surprised was he by this pain and agony, that Juggernaut did not notice Jaida had left him.

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Eden held tighter to Juggernaut and hid her face, when suddenly, a screeching sound came from the right and took him down.

"Cain!" she cried. But he fell, as another blast from the same direction slammed into his head. "Cain!" She leapt from his back to the wall and crawled up it, narrowly avoiding a bullet and a Cure weapon blast. She looked back briefly, and saw him screaming in pain, a deep, tremulous cry, that turned everyone's heads for a brief moment in the battle.

She could not help him. Afraid and weak and terrified, she clung to the wall and slithered up it as high as she could go, as far from the battle as she could be. The lab was huge and wide and cavernous, not unlike the Lair, though more square. Whoever had been shooting at her became distracted as Pyro directed a fiery blast his way and he burst into glowing flames.

Eden eased her way up the wall and looked down from a loftier perch at the battle beneath her. Magneto and Weir were untouched and watching as she was. Then, her eyes caught something else on the other side of the warehouse. A room, with glass doors, and a man, screaming silently at nothing, pulling at the straps that restrained him, trying to get out, trying to be heard.

"Toad…"

There was a long, wide pipe reaching from one side of the lab to the other, along with wires and other, thinner pipes. She reached them and began to slide across them. The battle raged on beneath her. The dead lay still, and the dying cried in pain. She went on.

A machine gun targeted her, and she moved to the topside of the largest pipe, and hid, the bullets flying around her and opening the pipe, spilling forth its contents.

A great deal of water burst through the underside of the pipe and splashed down directly onto the field surrounding Magneto and Weir. It hit the field and washed around it, down the sides, like a waterfall, not touching them. She crawled on, her would-be killer busy with someone other mutant.

Past the half-way mark and closer to the foremost wall, she stopped, barely breathing. Her chest felt like it was on fire and her lungs were closing on her. She forced air through her nose and out of her mouth. It wheezed out like a boiling kettle. She went on.

When she reached the other side, she eased her way, headfirst, down the wall. She flipped onto the floor and came to the glass doors. Her breathing worsened.

Desperately, she looked around her and the first thing she saw was a fire hydrant. She grabbed it and with what little strength she had, threw it at the doors. It bounced back and nearly took her head off!

A woman in a lab coat rushed towards her. "Get away from there!" Eden wasted no time. She flew towards the woman's neck and bit into her until she died. She turned back to the doors and pounded on the glass. "Toad! Toad!"

"Print not recognized," said an automated female voice.

Eden stepped away from the doors and saw that she had been pounding a small console with buttons, a tiny screen, and a rectangular pad, no longer than an inch, just enough room for a thumbprint.

She dragged the dead woman in the lab coat to the door. She grabbed her lifeless hand and pressed the thumb onto the pad and held it there.

"Print recognized," said the automated voice, "Dr. Anita Taylor."

Eden thrust the hand away from her as the doors slid open.

"MAGNETO!" Toad was screaming.

She ran to him and grabbed his wrist. "Get the fuck away from me!" he screamed.

"Toad!" she cried. "It's me! It's me!"

He stopped screaming. He stopped moving. "Eden?" he asked doubtfully. "Eden…?"

"Yeah! Yeah, it's me! I'm here!" she ran her fingers through his hair and over his face and kissed his face and his lips.

"I can't see you, Eden! I can't see you!"

"I know! I know…it's alright."

Tears spilled out of his blank, white eyes. "I can't see you…I can't…"

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Pyro watched Eden drag the body of a dead woman to the glass doors and use her fingerprint to open them, the room doubtlessly holding the man she loved. He watched as she ran to him, as she kissed him, as she cut away his restraints.

It was only mere seconds, all of this, but it was like his life walking away from him in slow motion. As soon as Toad was free, she was in his arms and he was touching her face and her hair. It was only then that Pyro realized that the guy was blind. He couldn't watch this…but he couldn't _not_ watch. A bullet whizzed by him, and the world snapped into quick and violent focus once again.

He spun instinctually and the flames erupted and took out whoever stood in the way. _Your power is amazing…_

His heart was sick and he backed up against the wall. Eden led Toad to the wall on the other side and they crawled up it together. He followed her, though he could not see her, trusting her. The battle was waning, the mutants seemingly victorious. He would make sure she was safe. He had to do at least that.

Then, it would be over.

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Juggernaut raged against the pain that threatened to consume him. Whatever they knew about him, about his physical composition, they had not only known where to hit him, but what to hit him with, and they had hit him hard. He forced himself off the ground, the blood spilling into his eyes and light spots dancing before him like vindictive faeries. He threw his weight into his powerful arms and swung at nothing—and hit something. People, men, women, came into contact with his iron arm and cracked and broke on contact before flying out of his way against walls and into tables.

He used his other hand to mop away the blood. It didn't stop, but he could see partly now, the rest of his vision obscured by pain and shock. He was soaked, water pouring from the ceiling, making the blood flow thin and free.

It was at this point he realized the absence of Jaida's weight. He reached behind him automatically to see if she were alright and she was not there. "Jaida!" he called out. She did not answer.

Christ, had he got her killed?

He couldn't think about that now. The battle went on, whether she were alive or not. Bullets flew towards him and he deflected them with his arms, keeping them away from his vulnerable skull. He was on the defensive now, a place he had never before been.

He had surprised them though with his comeback, that was clear. They cried in fear and doubt to "Get out of his way!" and to "Take cover!" Perhaps, they thought, he was truly undefeatable and that the blow to his head was merely a setback rather than the immense advantage it actually was. They could not tell and he wasn't about to reveal it to them.

Juggernaut was near the place, the forcefield, that contained Magneto and the Voice. The water dripped down and around it, pooling like a moat. He tried, but could not enter it. He looked around him, searching for Jaida, without letting his guard down.

There she was, on the other side of the room, climbing up a wall, another man following close behind her. That must be him, the mutant she called Toad. And there was Pyro, not so far away, dodging death and administering it. Magneto was behind Juggernaut, watching him, something like concern evident in his creased faced. Juggernaut gave him a wink. I'm alright. She's alright. He nodded towards the wall and Magneto looked up at it and saw Jaida and Toad.

They were on the ceiling now climbing over the battle. Magneto looked up at them. The Voice followed his gaze and pointed a Cure weapon at Magneto. Magneto smiled and said something. And then the Voice tilted his head to the side, as if asking a question, and fired up at the ceiling.

Juggernaut's eyes went immediately upwards, he was calling her name and the man called Toad came crashing down right into the forcefield.

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Eric saw Juggernaut on the floor, clutching the sides of his head as his helmet broke away in his huge hands and water cascaded on top of him like some kind of paranormal baptism. Weir turned and looked also. "Oh, Cain," he said, as if seeing an old friend from across a room at a party. "I'm very glad to see that that worked. I've been developing that weapon for some time now. No way to test it, of course."

Eric felt his heart drop. Where was Eden? He could not see her. That was probably a good thing. If he did not see her body, then she was not dead.

Weir turned back to Eric. "He's a good sort of fellow, Cain is. Horrible temper, though."

Eric stood there feeling helpless, desperate to join the battle that raged around him. "Weir, are we in some kind of field, you and I?"

Weir nodded and shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. "In a way," he explained generously, "only humans and," he gestured to Eric, "people like you can get inside of it."

"People like me? Those that have been hit with the Cure?"

Again Weir nodded. "Yes." He smiled and a look of realization swept over his face. "Ah, you're wondering about the Cure, aren't you? If you want to know, I admit, I had a great deal to do with it. You don't think that a man like Worthington could come up with something like this, do you?" He removed a Cure weapon from an inside pocket.

"It doesn't work, you know," Eric said.

"Oh, but it does. It doesn't last, of course, if that it was you mean." He held onto the weapon and pointed it at the ground. "And that it because it is _not_ a Cure. It is a weapon. It debilitates so that one can kill one's enemy." He grinned. "Do you wonder where that boy, Leech, they called him, do you not wonder where they found him? He was mine. I had him and I gave him to Worthington labs. Worthington was a sentimental man, he wanted to save mutants from a life of persecution, make them normal. I, on the other hand, want to persecute mutants to save the normal." He went on, telling his story as if he were giving a tour or talking to a student. "I gave Worthington Leech so that they could mass produce the Cure in a way that made it seem…" he shrugged, searching for the right word, "_humanitarian_," he said, "but, I knew that you could not resist the chance to turn it into something else, into the war I wanted. And so, I could make my weapons as a seemingly 'last' resort."

Juggernaut was off the floor, blood pouring out of a gaping wound in his head. He swung wildly and a group of armed men and women went flying in all directions, slamming into the wall and becoming bloody heaps of broken bones and flesh. He got the blood out of his eyes and turned and looked at Eric. He winked and nodded his head towards the wall to the left and Eric followed his gaze. He looked at the wall and upwards. Eden and Toad were on the ceiling, nearly just above them. They were moving slowly, as Toad was blind. A look of relief must have flooded his face, if even for a moment, because Weir was suddenly pointing the weapon at Eric.

Eric smiled. "We both know you can't hurt me with that," he said.

Weir tilted his head. "Oh no?" he said and fired twice upwards.

Eric reached forward futilely. "No!"

Toad came crashing down into the forcefield, twitching and shaking and crying out in pain.

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"We're reaching the top of the wall now. We have to climb on the ceiling."

Toad followed her instruction and felt his way onto the cold, steel ceiling. "What's going on down there?" he called to her.

"A battle," she said back to him.

"Are we winning?" he yelled.

"I think so!" she said.

He felt her foot against his hand. "Where are we going?"

"Try to get to a window up a bit and get out of here."

"I hear water running!"

"Burst pipe," she replied.

And then there was pain. He was falling and just above the sound of his own screaming, he heard her calling his name.

It was no more than a pinprick at first, a needle like any other needle. Twice he felt them, one right after the other. A second's thought had him thinking it simply ricocheted plaster or metal. Another second, and it was something completely different.

His entire body shuddered and he lost his grip on the ceiling, not like he had slipped and fallen, but rather like he was not able to hold onto it anymore, as if he had no business crawling on a ceiling. As he was plummeting downward, the world came into screeching focus and he saw white lights and fire all around him.

He hit the floor and his vision went black and red.

And then…he felt…_himself_…his body _change_…and change and change again. His eyes, his tongue, the webbing in his fingers, between his toes, it was as if he were being turned inside out. When he realized he could see again, he saw his own hands first, the webbing gone and his skin was white like the light around him. White like Weir's lab coat. White like…normal.

His tongue was so short! And his gums stretched painfully upwards and he could feel his teeth widening and lengthening. He screamed against it! Stop, stop, stop! His strength, he felt it disappear! And he knew, without knowing, that he was…_human_. He was normal. He _was_ Mortimer.

Eden was calling his name. Magneto was staring at him and the Voice was smiling as if all of this were so simple and pleasant. He crouched down beside Mortimer and the smile widened.

"Pity," he said, "I missed completely. I meant to hit the girl."

It was nothing short of a visceral reaction, one that bore no thought, no consideration. Mortimer jumped at the Voice with what human strength he bore, and coupled with his anger, it was enough to knock the man to the floor and the weapon out of his hands.

And it gave the Voice enough time to shoot him in the chest.

A bullet, steel-cold, hot as hell—oh my God. He fell to his side and blood came out of his mouth, gentle, dripping, like a quiet stream…like a pool…like the pools in the Lair. He could hear water running all around him. He would swim now, if he could have anything in the world. Swim in the cold pools.

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The Cure weapon slid out of the forcefield. Jaida leapt from the ceiling, and splashed down on to the watery floor, her hair and clothes already soaking. She picked up the weapon.

And turned it on herself.

Juggernaut grabbed her. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"It's the only way I can get in there!" she said. "Don't you see? Mutants can't get in, but humans can!"

Juggernaut realized the truth of this assertion. It made all the sense in the world. But her desire to destroy herself in order to get in did not.

"Give it to me then," he said. He took it from her. "Even if I'm cured, I'll 'ave enough strength in me to get 'im out of there. We can try at least." He opened the weapon and took out a vial.

He gave it a moment's glance before jamming it into the wound in his skull.

It hit him like a kick in the gut.

He almost threw up.

He fell to his knees and Jaida was holding his face her hands, speaking to him, tears gathering in her eyes and water pouring over both of them.

It came and passed and he felt the death inside of him. Death, but he was still alive. He took her wrists in his hands and brought his face up. "I'm alright, s'alright," he said hoarsely. "Be back…in a minute."

He struggled to his feet and walked into the forcefield.

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Weir fired his weapon once. It was all he had time for.

He had not counted on this, on Cain striking himself with the Cure in order to get to him. Cain had him, he was strong, humanly strong, but strong.

Weir struggled and they fought, but he was not a match for him, even if he was no longer the Juggernaut.

Cain pulled him by his arms out of the forcefield. Eric followed.

Eden knelt on the ground. Her eyes were hungry and her teeth were bared.

Cain forced Weir's head to the one side and Eden stared at him. She stroked his neck. "Remember me?" she asked him, like an old lover.

Weir looked directly into her eyes. "My Jaida," he said. "You've come home."

She nodded. "I've come to kill you. I always knew I would."

"Do it then, darling Jaida, do it. It all comes full circle," he looked at Eric. "Isn't that right, Twenty-one Forty-seven Eighty-two?"

"What did you say?" Eric asked. His stomach froze, his heart was motionless, his mind swooned. Weir did not answer. He looked only at Eric, even as Eden bent down to bite his neck. "No, Eden! Stop!" he yelled to her. He got onto his knees and grabbed Weir by the collar. "What did you say!"

"Twenty-one Forty-seven Eighty-two," Weir repeated.

"How do you know that! How!"

Weir's free hand reached up and pulled at Eric's sleeve, revealing the numbers etched into his arm. "We've met, Eric Magnus Lensherr, in another life perhaps, but, oh the stories my father told me, about the boy who could fire a gun just by looking at it."

Eric let him go, not because he wanted to, but because his hands went slack and had lost any strength they may have had.

"My father? The officer in charge of your interrogation, the one man who knew how to control you…only because you were a boy, though, Magneto. He could never have controlled you, not as I can, now, when you're," he laughed, "all grown up."

Eric's whole body shook. He was filled with anger, new and old, anger from here, and from another life. He could taste it in his mouth…everything that had ever haunted him in his worst nightmares, he saw it all in Weir, the descendant of the man who had tortured him…who tortured him even now.

"Let me kill him!" Eden cried.

He kicked Weir in the face without even realizing he had been thinking of doing so. He might have broken his jaw, because Weir seemed to have run out of things to say.

Eden took this as a clue to kill him at last. She revealed not two, but four fangs, the bottom two flipping into an upward position, all dripping with the pumping green poison.

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She knelt on the ground and looked up at him, at Magneto, whose face was whiter than Weir's white coat. He shook with anger. She could sense it, see it. Just behind him she could see Toad, struggling for air, blood collecting on his bare chest and dripping out of his mouth, his life spilling out onto the floor.

"Let me kill him!" she cried.

And Magneto kicked him in the face. She heard the bones in his face break, his jaw snapping backwards with the force of it. The look in Weir's eyes was not one of fear, though, or even one of pain…rather, it was peaceful, as if, as he had said, everything had come full circle and now that it was over, he was satisfied with all that he had done.

She could not wait any longer and she let her bottom fangs rise. They were not necessary, but she wanted them, she wanted him to feel them all, feel a double dose of her poison.

Eden bent and smelled his neck, the sweat, the skin. And she bit. She bit long and wide and hard, her mouth encompassing the left half of his pulsing throat. She tasted his blood briefly before it was filled with her poison. And she held on.

She had given him enough. He would die.

But she wanted to feel it! Feel him die!  
His artery pulsed strong as a natural resistance to death filled him, it was hard and fast…then, the poison came, her lips felt his pulse lessen, vibrating against her lips, slow, and then, it disappeared all together. She held on a little longer and then let go.

Weir slumped onto the ground, as Cain released him, wide-eyed and lifeless. A thin, quiet, smile played on his lips as the water poured into his open eyes and through the edges of his mocking mouth.

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She breathed in wheezes and wiped the blood droplets from the corners of her mouth. Magneto stood above her, holding out his hand. She took it, got up and rushed to Toad. The forcefield knocked her backwards and she fell. "Cain!" she called.

"On it," he said to her. He took a short moment to get to his feet and look one last time at the Voice. There lay justice and he needed to remember what that looked like.

Then he was through to Toad and lifting him up. The man was breathing, but struggling to. It might have been a bullet in his lung, collapsing it. He held the man and came out of the field. "On my back Jaida, let's go."

"But you can't—"

"I can still protect you," he said. "Let's go. Magneto?"

Magneto was staring at the Voice's body. He had one hand on his chin, the other around his stomach. When Cain called him, he turned, slowly, reluctantly, and his eyes were glazed and full of wrath, and shock, and strain. "Let's go," said Cain.

Magneto only nodded and followed him around the forcefield. The other mutants, who still lived, finished off the resistance and followed suite, dragging the wounded, and leaving the dead. No one pursued them.

Toad's eyes were fixed on nothing, he saw nothing now. He wasn't blind, but he couldn't see. "Eden, Eden," was all he said. Even as she reassured him that she was right there, that she wasn't going anywhere and that he was alright, he still called her name.

Magneto walked a little ahead of them. "Oy, where's Pyro?" asked Cain.

Magneto stopped and looked around. "I don't see him," he said, slightly confused.

"I _did_ see him," said Cain, "where the hell did he go?"

His body was no where to be seen, dead or alive.

And then, he heard them.

The sirens…the whines of the alarms, the calls on the megaphones, and the guns firing as some of the mutants in the lead walked out into an ambush. "Ah, shit," said Cain.


	13. Chapter 13: Glory

**Chapter 13: Glory**

They walked out into a fury of fighting. Cain stayed back, holding onto Toad. Eric stood in the doorframe, behind the fray. They were calling to him, the police, with their guns and Cure weapons. They could stay in the warehouse, but how long would that last them? Before they were overrun?

The Wolverine was there, and Storm as well, clouding the skies and bringing the rain. He saw the Iceman and then, he saw Pyro. He locked eyes with him, the boy who stood in the midst of the police cars, not fighting, arms crossed. He nodded once to Eric, and disappeared between the cars.

And then they were behind him, the police, with their guns.

They were firing at him, at Cain, at Eden. He saw them as if in slow motion, as if in a film. He saw them and hated them, he saw them and wanted them to die, he saw them and raged against them with his whole being! And they fired and fired!

Cain took a bullet in the shoulder and fell to his knees. The gun aimed at him now and would fire, surely, take him down, kill him, and then, all of them.

He reached out, with his hand, with all of this strength. "NO!" he yelled! "NO!"

And the bullet came. It came and it stopped.

They all stopped.

Mid-air they stopped, bullet and plastic cure vials alike. The bullets wavered in the air and the vials crashed down onto the earth, spilling their contents. A wave of energy spilled out of him, exploded, and he felt the power in him, not unlike an orgasm, as it strained to break free. It was pleasure more than anything else; he was his power, and his power was him. They were one.

He felt everything, every piece of metal, every atom of iron and steel, the weapons, the buttons on their jackets, the adamantium in Wolverine, the wedding bands on their fingers, the very iron in their blood…it was all around him! In him! He rose off the ground! The rain fell and rolled off of the magnetic field emanating from his hand, from his body! The lighting struck it and the field absorbed it, using its electricity to create capillaries of light that expanded over the surface of the invisible shield he was creating. It was Beauty!

His hands pushed forward and up and out and the field surrounded him, surrounded them! It shielded them from everything, enveloped them like a cocoon!

"OY JAIDA!" he heard Cain. She had leapt off his back, away from his protection. She was soaked with rain and she ran out into the open, into the center of the magnetic orb. The bullets fired, but nothing touched her, and the mutants around him stopped fighting and looked up at him like he was a god! They touched the impenetrable field that held them and rose off the ground as he rose!

Together they lifted into the air!

"MAGNETO!" Eden cried with incomparable joy! He looked down to her…her arms wide, her face shining with rain and tears and elation, she seemed to stand on the air itself, the solid magnetic bubble, glistening with rain and electricity, encompassing her and all of them, carrying them away. Below them, the police and the military alike, fired and called and tried to stop them. They could not! They _could not_ stop him!

It surged inside of him, this power, and it carried them. It drew its strength from the very core of the earth, and it was all inside of him. He felt every bit of metal in the entire world, overwhelming, unimaginable! Power beyond power! Joy beyond joy!

His whole soul sang, his heart burst with it! The tears cascaded down his face as the power inside of him burst free! He opened his arms and raised his face to the gray heavens and cried aloud, a wordless thanks to a quiet, unintelligible God! The field glowed! It was an extension of himself! He was limitless! As he had never before been!

And they all watched him, and watched the world disappear beneath them, as he rose and carried them safely away.

Magneto _rose_!

Magneto lived!

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_Oh! the world would stop for you_

_if they only knew your name_

_if they only knew you power_

_if they only knew your shame_

_They would raise their hands in exultation_

_and worship you til death_

_if they only knew your pain_

_the agony of every breath_

_I took your hand and followed_

_I loved you though you died_

_and when you came to life again_

_I raised my hands and cried!_

_For I loved you more_

_and no matter what occurs_

_I'll love you still_

_even as the world stirs..._

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"If the guy's lung is collapsed, it might fix itself," Quicksilver was saying. "But, if it doesn't you can use a needle and a syringe to take the air out of the pleural cavity, or if you've got a hollow plastic tube, you can suck it out with something."

In spite of her overt anxiousness over Toad, Jaida stared disbelievingly at this strange, fast-talking white-haired child. Cain looked at him as well. " 'Ow d'you know that?"

Quicksilver shrugged. "Read a book, watched ER. Bored," he explained.

Cain lay back on the bed. "Don' let that kid anywhere near me."

Jaida ignored Cain and approached Quicksilver. "Can you…I mean, do you know how to do that?"

He nodded. "Told you, read a book, watched ER." He saw her doubt. "Might fix itself," he concluded quietly, as if she had insulted him.

They had oxygen and other surgical supplies and Jaida, with Quicksilver and some other mutants who had limited medical experience, cared for the wounded.

They had made it back to the Lair undetected. Magneto had removed the bullets from the wounded and then disappeared into the confines of his quarters and they had not seen him since.

Several agonizing days dripped by like slow water droplets from a monotonous leaky faucet. Eden barely slept, though he demanded it of her.

She was changing the bandage on his head, the wound she herself had stitched, and the one on his shoulder and he smiled. "Guess we showed him, eh?"

"I guess we did."

"So, what do you think will happen now?"

She finished taping him up. "War," she said.

He rested his head more deeply into the pillow. "Good," he said with satisfaction. " 'Ow's your…friend?" he asked tentatively.

Jaida looked towards Toad. "I think he'll be alright, after a few weeks, I think he'll pull through." She faced him. "I let Quicksilver do that…thing, with the needle and the syringe."

"No you did not."

She smiled. "Saved his life," she replied mildly. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was paler than the white lights in the room.

"Sit yourself down, Jaida," he patted the bed. She did not argue. "Eh, you alright?"

Jaida nodded slowly. "I think I will be. I just thought, for a moment," she swiped at her eyes quickly, as if he did not notice her tears, "well, I thought, after all this time, he would die, here. And that I would have to…"

"He's not and you won't," Cain said with finality. "So, shu' up abou' it, right?"

She breathed shakily. "Alright," she agreed quietly.

He smiled at her. He took her face in his big hand and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "He's a good looking guy, Jaid, you've done alright for yourself."

She laughed and held his hand as he held her face. "Thank you, Cain," she said, smiling. She kissed his hand and walked over to Toad's bed.

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Eden walked into the living room and Magneto was sitting on the couch, his back facing her. He had one arm on the back of the chair and the other on the armrest. He sat quite still and she was afraid she might disturb him.

As quietly as she could, Eden made her way to the other side of the room, towards the kitchen area. She was hungry and so were the others. When she turned to look at him, his eyes were open and he was watching her with a gentle smile. She returned it. "Just getting some food," she explained.

He motioned for her to sit on the couch beside him. She did so. There was something so completely different about him, it was stunning to behold. A kind of glow, peaceful and yet aggressively real and outstanding. He had never looked this way before. His eyes were calm and his face tranquil.

All she could do was look at him, there were no words, as such, that she could think of to say. He seemed to feel the same way, at first, returning her long gaze with his own. Then he reached forward, to caress her face, and without even thinking about it, she huddled up against him and rested her head on his strong breast. He breathed deeply and put his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head and she wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him, closing her eyes, listening to his heart.

Anyone looking in on this scene would have been one of two things, either confused or touched. Such as it was, no one was looking in. They were together, of themselves, by themselves.

"How's Toad?"

"He'll be alright, I think. Quicksilver really seemed to know what he was doing."

Magneto nodded and she could feel the movement, without seeing it. "He's a strange boy, but I like him."

"So do I," she responded. She thought about Quicksilver, and her thoughts drifted and she felt a sadness well up in her. "I wish Pyro—"

"Yes," he interrupted, "but he's made his choice."

She sighed. "Yes, sir," she conceded. It hurt all the same. A love, a friend, she could never have back. But, that was life, wasn't it? That was life.

He stroked her hair. "Pyro was always angry and alone. He was afraid. And I hurt him, in a way that was unforgivable."

"Do you think he'll try and find you?"

"No," he answered, "but if we do run into each other at some point, I will be very cautious."

She let her head sink into him. "I hurt him too," she admitted quietly.

He continued to run his fingers through her hair. "How could you have, my dear?" he asked gently.

Eden sighed and sat up. His hand fell away from her and he observed her with concern. How had she hurt Pyro? How is anyone really hurt in this world? What is it that matters so much that it can destroy someone so completely with just the thought of it? She knew what it was. And so did Pyro.

"I loved him," she said simply.

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He woke. His eyes opened and he saw perfectly clearly. Everything jumped into sharp, lucid focus. He lifted his hand to rub his eyes and his hands were free.

And she was there. Watching him. What could he say to her? He had never seen her so clearly before in all the time he had known her and she was more beautiful than he'd ever thought.

"Say something," he whispered, his voice sounded strange and raspy and breathy.

She smiled. "What do you want me to say?" she asked.

"Any—anything thing. I just want to hear your voice."

Her eyes flooded. She grabbed his hand with a vengeance and pressed it to her lips. He took her face in his hand and drew her to him. She stood over him and they were about to kiss. "Just speak, speak to me," he begged, "don't stop speaking." They kissed and kissed and she repeated his name over and over again. She buried her face in between his neck and shoulder, embracing him. He shifted in the bed so that she could lie beside him. She lifted the sheet and crawled underneath it, pressing her body against his and pulling up the blankets to cover them both.

She wrapped her arm around him gingerly, to avoid hurting him, and nuzzled herself against him.

He lay back in perfect peace, feeling her breathing beside him. He smiled. "When I'm better," he whispered, so that only she could hear, "we're gonna go swimming, completely naked, and we're gonna make love in the same place we did before, all wet and slippery, and then we'll go swimming again, and make love again, and we'll just do that all day."

Eden was laughing and crying against him, as he spoke in a kind of hazy, dreamlike way. "Ok," she agreed.

Toad looked down at his hands, at the white-pinkness of them. He sighed, leaning his head back into the pillow. "Do you think, when my powers come back, do you think I'll go blind again?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Maybe you'll be even more powerful than you were before…like Magneto."

"Maybe." He was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Ede, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my love," she answered.

"I was…looking at myself in the mirror yesterday, and I saw this…this fit looking, quite handsome, Brit staring back at me. He was good looking, you know? And I was wondering…" he swallowed. "Do you like him better, all fucking… perfect looking, like that?"

Eden sighed and propped herself up on her elbow and looked derisively at him. "Are you serious?" she quipped. He nodded. It was her turn to whisper. She leant down by his ear and breathed sensually. "I would trade a good-looking Brit for your tongue any day of the week."

He felt a shiver race down his spine. "I really need to get better, soon."

She nodded and laughed, "You really do."

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**...EPILOGUE...**

There's nothing quite like planning ahead. Preparing yourself for what may possibly, and even most likely will, never happen. Marco had called him paranoid. Others had deemed him insane.

If Lucas Marco had listened to him, he would still be alive today. But he hadn't, and he wasn't.

He had taken so many vials of poison from Jaida's teeth, and had kept them, studying them. Eventually, he would have found a way to stop her from producing the poison. As it was, she had unexpectedly escaped, which left him no alternative. Day after day for years he had injected himself with steadily increasing dosages of her poison, the strongest leaving parts of body numb for hours. Just as he had developed a weapon against Cain, he had devised a method to avoid the more serious effects Jaida's poison, namely, death…just in case, in case. Paranoid? Are you watching, Lucas?

The paralysis had worn off more quickly than usual, but it had affected his entire body…mein Gott, she had given him a huge dose. When they found him, he was not breathing, the water from the pipe having filled his mouth and lungs. They had revived him. They had eased him gently onto a gurney, made his jaw immobile, injected him with something for the pain. This is too, shall pass.

And then, dear Doctor, what will happen then?

He would survive this. He _was_ surviving!

Whatever they had given him was making his mind run in circles, replaying what had happened to him in his mind. He was speaking, though his jaw was clenched nearly shut.

"Did you saying something, Doctor?" asked a voice he did not recognized. They must be in the ambulance now, they were bumping up and down, and jolting along a rougher road. "Doctor? What did you say?"

If it were possible, Rhys Weir would have smiled. If he were more cognizant, he would have laughed. The morphine swam through his veins and into his brain. But just before it completely knocked him out, he managed to force a few words between his locked teeth, words that meant nothing to whoever heard them, but everything to him!

"Full…circle."

**THE END**


End file.
